


Feel It, Don't Hesitate

by blehgah



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Sharing Rooms, as far as rps goes, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blehgah/pseuds/blehgah
Summary: Over the course of Seventeen's Japan tour, Chan, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung attempt to navigate through both new and old aspects of their relationship.





	Feel It, Don't Hesitate

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ha:tfelt's song Pluhmm. I'm uploading this from mobile, so I'm sorry for any formatting difficulties; I'll go back to edit things from my computer when possible. 
> 
> Thanks so much to the mods for hosting this event! And special thanks to my beta for the feedback!

Today’s the day he becomes an adult. Soonyoung makes sure everybody knows.

He’s pulled out of the group of performers mingling on the stage and handed a mic. Soonyoung smiles at him, small but brimming with glee, from behind the mic.

He says a few customary words, bows at the camera, any camera, before retreating back into the mass of people. Soonyoung’s eyes linger on him, still smiling, sparkling crescents under the golden, festive lights on stage.

It’s late and he’s tired but he knows this is just the beginning.

 

* * *

 

As the group is headed back to their transport vehicles, a collection of vans this time rather than a bus, Seungcheol catches up to Chan and throws an arm around his shoulders.

“So,” he starts, his face almost against Chan’s cheek, “you’re an adult now! It’s New Year’s Eve! This calls for a celebration, yeah?”

Seungcheol is normally quite handsy and physically affectionate, both on and off camera. Chan is used to being in close contact with him—even if sometimes the roughhousing isn’t exactly his thing.

Their steps have aligned perfectly in the short amount of time they’ve been walking together. Chan opens his mouth to reply when Jeonghan appears at his other side.

“Yes!” Jeonghan chimes in. “Yes, we should have dinner. Anything you’re craving, Channie?”

A lopsided smile warps Chan’s lips as he turns to look at his other hyung. “Well,” he says, “I mean—I don’t know, I’m not exactly—”

“I think we should have fried rice,” Mingyu suggests from Jeonghan’s side.

The four of them are now walking in a perfectly synchronized line. Chan’s arms are caged in by his sides and the smile on his face is wavering by the second.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan nod together, slowly, sagely.

“And maybe—” Jeonghan begins, leaning forward to shoot Seungcheol a look, “maybe we could… have meat?”

Chan stands up a little straighter at that. He can tell his hyungs are trying to communicate without actually speaking—Jeonghan is notorious for his _meaningful looks—_ right in front of him, but if there’s meat on the table… Maybe he doesn’t mind so much.

A smile curls Seungcheol’s lips. “I think that’s a great idea, Jeonghan,” he replies.

Chan ends up in the back seat of a van with Mingyu and Seungkwan, while Jeonghan and Seungcheol occupy the seats in front of him. It’s a rowdy matchup: Mingyu and Seungkwan bicker so much, and for no good reason, and always with so much fidgeting and tickling.

This time, however, they’re awfully quiet; every now and then, Seungkwan steals glances at both Chan and Mingyu. On the other hand, Mingyu is even less subtle: he outright stares at Chan sometimes.

“What is it?” Chan asks eventually.

Mingyu doesn’t reply for a while. Seungcheol relays some directions to their manager, seeking out their dinner venue.

“Nothing,” Mingyu replies, though his voice is strangely tight.

Seungkwan sighs. “He’s just amazed at how much you’ve grown, Chan-ah,” Seungkwan tells him without looking up from his phone.

A range of expressions flicker across Mingyu’s face in a matter of seconds. In the end, he settles on indignant and he smacks the top of Seungkwan’s thigh with the heel of his palm.

“What makes you think that, huh?” Mingyu hisses. “I was just—I was just surprised he wasn’t looking at videos of himself like he usually does when we finish a show. That’s all.”

Mingyu isn’t a good liar, but he does make a good point.

Chan thinks back to their performance. He thinks of the video clip they made with their international fans, those who couldn’t be there; he thinks of the fans who’d been in front of him, waving their light sticks and screaming. He thinks of their fans, the people who allow him to do what he loves.

He thinks about Soonyoung presenting him on stage—and he scoffs to himself, just slightly.

Running a hand through his hair, Chan looks down at his lap. “I didn’t bring my glasses and my eyes are dry from the contacts; I’ll probably have a look when we get home, though,” he explains.

Mingyu’s eyes rest on him for a while once again.

Then, Seungkwan thrusts out his phone and shows them a couple gifs that some fans have already made from the live performance. They talk about the camera angles until they reach the restaurant, and they arrive just before the discussion can escalate.

This began with good intentions, Chan is sure of that. He’s sure that, at some point, Seungcheol or Jeonghan or Mingyu planned on asking him what he wanted to have, but he’s not really the star of the night, even if his coming of age had been a good excuse for them to go out. This is just a regular night, and Seungcheol, drinking champ of the group, wanted an excuse to have alcohol.

Chan ends up squished between Soonyoung and Seungkwan—two of their lightweights. At least it wasn’t Seungkwan and Seokmin, because that would have been a fucking mess.

Seokmin ends up across from Seungkwan. Chan sighs inwardly.

It doesn’t take long for them to get service, and when the server turns to Chan, everyone falls silent. The sudden quiet is heavy in Chan’s lap, but he lifts his head high and orders.

“An apple soju, please,” he says.

The group erupts into barely hushed whispers.

“For yourself?” Seungkwan asks incredulously. “I mean, there’s no way—you’re gonna share, right?”

Wonwoo laughs, the sharp sound cutting across the table. “Come on, Seungkwan-ah, don’t be greedy. Let him have what he wants,” he says.

“He can learn for himself if it’s a bad decision,” Jisoo says, his expression caught between a sigh and a wry smile.

Seungkwan’s eyes linger on Chan for a second. Then, he lifts his hand to catch the server’s attention.

“Make that two, then,” Seungkwan says with almost as much confidence as Chan.

This garners more sounds of intrigue from the table, followed by more orders of soju. Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Mingyu, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Seokmin all follow suit. The server hurries to write everything down alongside their food orders before rushing off.

Now, Jisoo sighs for real. “Alright, kids, as long as you’re ready for the consequences,” he says. His words say disappointed mother, but the slight quirk to the corner of his lips says ‘this is going to be very interesting.’

Seungcheol claps a hand over Jisoo’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it—I’m the one in charge, remember?”

Hansol grins. “You know our dependable leader,” he says. “One bottle of soju won’t knock him off his feet.”

Jisoo rolls his eyes, but it’s mostly for show. “Hansol-ah, you know you’re gonna be helping me out when these fuckers can’t walk, right?”

Immediately, Hansol’s eyes shift to Seungkwan, followed quickly by Seokmin, who grins brightly, sheepishly. Seungkwan doesn’t even bother looking sorry. All he does is shrug. It’s a game now and he’ll play it best he can, as usual.

The restaurant they’ve chosen is fairly busy, considering the time. It’s a usual spot for them post-performance; it’s got the room and staff to accommodate their large number.

Side dishes come quickly and Chan doesn’t realize how hungry he is until he takes a bite. Beside him, Seungkwan snorts. Chan rolls his eyes and turns to brandish a cube of radish towards Seungkwan’s mouth.

“Growing boys need to eat, you know,” Soonyoung chimes in, leaning forward.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung’s eyes meet. Chan takes back what he said earlier; being stuck between these two is still pretty shit luck.

With a snap of his jaw, Seungkwan takes the radish and chews noisily. The deep furrow of his brow is so intense that Chan can’t help but laugh.

“Are you still growing, then?” Seungkwan asks Soonyoung.

They haven’t even started drinking yet and they’re already at the jabs.

Soonyoung nods. “Yeah, I’ve still got to catch up to Mingyu. It’ll be hard, but I think I can do it if I really try,” he replies.

From the other side of the table, Mingyu scoffs. “You do that and all you’ll get is a busted jacket again, hyung,” he comments.

Soonyoung barks across the table, not unlike a small, angry dog. Mingyu flinches and Wonwoo laughs. Chan knocks his shoulders against Soonyoung’s, hoping to distract him.

It works. Soonyoung sighs and rests his cheek on Chan’s shoulder.

“These kids think they can get away with anything as long as we’re in public with a table between us,” Soonyoung complains.

“It _was_ pretty brave of him, considering he hasn’t actually had any alcohol yet,” Chan agrees.

It doesn’t take long for that to be corrected. Some of their food is set down, along with several bottles of alcohol. The scattered glass towers skew the landscape and suddenly Chan feels nervous.

Seungkwan can smell fear; Chan forgot about that. Grinning and leering, Seungkwan leans in closer to Chan. He swipes the bottle placed by Chan’s hand before turning his head to meet his eye.

“I’ll get that for you, dear maknae,” he coos, syrupy sweet and viscous in Chan’s throat. “We can do a toast. To good health and all that.”

Seungcheol rises to his feet and lifts his already-full shot glass, exclaiming, “Here's to the new year! I hope we'll be happy and healthy in the year to come!”

With a shout, Soonyoung also stands and lifts a shot glass. “And to our maknae finally becoming a man!” he cries.

A flush colours Chan's ears. Seungkwan laughs and the rest of the group cheers together, their voices colliding and bouncing around the dining area. They're wrapped in each other, boisterous and warm and loud, and quickly become entangled as food and drink are eagerly consumed.

Seungkwan ends up half in Chan's lap; Soonyoung takes the other side. He's got the thighs to accommodate them, certainly, and it becomes especially apparent to him once Seungkwan lays both a hand and a knee over his leg.

Hansol eyes him from across the table. Chan doesn't know how to react just yet, but he does manage a lopsided smile. Slowly, Hansol's eyes drift down the lines of Seungkwan's arm and leg; his face tightens, but he seems puzzled as opposed to... anything else. Chan doesn't want to think about it.

In a flash, Minghao distracts Hansol somehow, with a joke maybe, and it's that easy for him to break into a wide laugh.

“Chan-ah,” Seungkwan says, capturing Chan's attention completely. “You're all grown up now. You're out here with us, drinking past curfew.”

On Chan's other side, Soonyoung wails and buries his face in the crook of Chan's neck. “My little Channie is a man!”

“It's—It's not that big a deal,” Chan mumbles. He lowers his head, uncertain of what to do with his two hyungs caging him in. “I'm still the same guy I was before the clock hit midnight.”

“But you'll keep growing,” Soonyoung says. “You'll keep growing and getting better at dancing—what if you get taller than me?” His voice catches and cracks. “What am I gonna do if I'm the shortest member in our unit?”

Chan rolls his eyes and swats at Soonyoung's arm. All that does is encourage Soonyoung to slide his hand lower down the inside of Chan's thigh. The friction catches Chan off-guard and he forgets the snarky reply he had building on his tongue.

“I... who cares?” Chan stutters. His head is too foggy to fully comprehend Soonyoung's worry. Tendrils of heat snake around his legs and up around his hips. “Shouldn't you, like, be more worried about me becoming a better dancer?” he continues, his voice a little shaky, a little fuzzy, suffused with given heat.

Soonyoung shakes his head. "No," he replies, "because that'd just mean I taught you well."

The warm, honey sweetness to Soonyoung’s voice piles onto the heat pooling in Chan’s stomach. Chan takes another shot of soju—just to do something with his hands, probably.

Seungkwan clicks his tongue. It comes out a little dull, and maybe with more spit than sound. "Don't take credit for him. You're not responsible for that," he says.

"Yeah, but, like, we work together, and if he gets to that point, then it'll just make our performance better, obviously," Soonyoung explains. "And we are the performance unit after all."

"Why are you guys talking about me like I'm not here?" Chan whines.

Seungkwan pets Chan's leg in what must be an attempt to soothe. Again, the friction brings heat to Chan's brain, causing the fog trapped in his skull to expand. It’s a strange landscape in there, and he’s not quite sure how to navigate it now—and he’s not sure if he can trust his hyungs to help him through it, especially not when they’re the ones stirring up the elements.

Chan looks across the table to find something else to focus on, but the seat is empty. A quick glance around the room tells Chan that Seokmin has relocated to sit between Jeonghan and Seungcheol, possibly as a violence buffer.

“Hey,” Soonyoung says, squeezing Chan’s knee. His thumb digs in hard, on the edge of painful, right below his sensitive thigh. “Listen—we’re talking to you, not at you. I promise—I just—” He hesitates, swallowing. “You know.”

“He loves you,” Seungkwan says with a watery sigh. Chan hopes he’s not gonna cry. “I love you, Chan. We’re just—”

A gust of air leaves Chan’s chest in a _whoosh_ as Soonyoung goes in for a hug. It doesn’t take long for Seungkwan to follow suit.

It’s hot. It’s way too hot. Chan is probably sweating in the mismatched layers of his stage costume. Seungkwan has somehow started to inch his other leg over Chan’s thigh, and Soonyoung almost has both legs around his waist.

“Guys…” Chan wheezes.

When Seungkwan settles into the crook of Chan’s neck and Soonyoung rests his cheek against the top of Chan’s head, things start to click into place. The heat doesn’t overwhelm; it circulates through his veins and tingles his skin. The arms and legs around him are no longer a cage, but shelter, support.

Their joints seem to melt together, malleable, easy contact. Chan loops an arm around Seungkwan’s waist and lays the palm of his other hand flat against the small of Soonyoung’s back.

“I love you guys, too, you know,” Chan says lowly.

“Good,” Soonyoung murmurs.

Seungkwan nods. Chan has a feeling that Seungkwan doesn’t need any sort of reassurance—but to hear it from his mouth is always comforting.

“You guys better not fall asleep here,” Mingyu admonishes them from across the table.

Seungkwan yawns in an exaggerated manner. Chan feels like he’s about to become dessert with the way Seungkwan opens his mouth so widely.

“Leave them alone,” Wonwoo chides him. He swipes Mingyu’s bottle and holds it up to the light. “You’re finished already? Do we need to talk?”

Mingyu’s voice climbs to a whine as he tries to defend himself from Wonwoo’s light jab and they quickly veer into a squabble. There’s a laugh in the folds of Wonwoo’s mouth, and any other observations Chan makes quickly shatter into pieces when Soonyoung settles his legs closer to Chan’s hip.

Part of Chan wants to grab Soonyoung’s waist and haul him closer, having grown a taste for his warmth. But the rest of him, including whatever part of his brain is still functioning properly, recognizes that they’re in public and that’s probably not a good idea.

Soonyoung takes his bottle of soju and gives it a experimental shake. It sloshes back at him and he downs the rest of it without an ounce of hesitation.

“Without hesitation,” Chan says out loud.

A crooked smile pulls at Seungkwan’s mouth. “Uh huh?” he prompts Chan. “I hope you stream it lots when it comes out.”

Chan nods vigorously. His head feels like slush and he’s shaking up the contents. Nothing fits in place, but it’s nice not to keep a steady train of thought; it’s nice not to focus, not to care (too much).

“Of course, hyung,” Chan replies. “The demo sounds good. To think Seventeen’s top vocalists are getting their own song—”

He stops at that. Seungkwan beams with pride, accustomed to such a compliment, but Soonyoung’s eyes grow wide.

“Wait—” Soonyoung says, gasping. He points at his own chest. “Did you just—?”

There’s an opposing rabble of voices from around the table. Of course the rest of the group tunes in when Chan makes a comment about the group.

A flurry of complaints come from Jisoo and Jeonghan while Jihoon waves wildly with his hands, trying to calm down his hyungs. Seungcheol almost gets to his feet, but Jihoon holds him down, too.

“Soonyoung gets put in a unit with the other main vocals and suddenly he’s a “top vocalist?”” Wonwoo asks, his wrist limp in a dismissive gesture. “Chan, I feel so betrayed.”

Now Jeonghan’s about to get to his feet, a hand curled in the back of Jisoo’s shirt, trying to get him to do the opening line to “Falling For You”. Jihoon looks like he’s about to give up.

As Jisoo is threatening to turn this car around and drive them all home, Soonyoung pats one of Chan’s cheeks to grab his attention. Chan turns his head and blinks; the lights above them shimmer, unstable, and glitter in Soonyoung’s eyes.

“You really think that I’m on Seungkwan and Seokmin’s level?” Soonyoung asks, his tone a little too honest, tugging at Chan’s chest.

It takes Chan a second to pick the right words. “Yeah,” he breathes, feeling like the word was punched out of him—or pulled out by the gravity of Soonyoung’s expectant gaze.

Seungkwan reaches around Chan and takes one of Soonyoung’s hands.

“Listen, hyung,” Seungkwan starts, “you’ve been practicing really hard. We’ll show them a strong debut and we’ll do really well with the song, okay?”

Soonyoung inhales sharply through his nose. Now Chan’s hoping Soonyoung won’t cry.

“Okay,” Soonyoung replies. He nods vigorously. “Okay! Let’s do it! Fighting, Seungkwan!”

His last exclamation seems to trigger something in the group: they respond with a resounding _fighting!_ of their own, as if they were standing on stage ready to perform.

Chan laughs, the sound bounding out of his chest unrestrained. He laughs and laughs and soon enough the rest of the group breaks into uproarious laughter as well, clutching at each other in their various states of sobriety.

It’s a good way to start the year.

 

* * *

 

A couple of weeks into January, Chan is summoned to the dance practice room at an ungodly hour. He doesn’t mind the time, though—comeback is soon and they need to make this as perfect as possible.

Chan isn't surprised to find Soonyoung staring his reflection down when he arrives. A few steps away, haphazardly dragged over and askew, sits a table littered with empty coffee cups and notes.

As Chan approaches the table to peer at the notes, Soonyoung hisses at him. Their eyes meet in the mirror. Suddenly, Chan is reminded of Soonyoung's stage name, feeling caught in some predator's gaze.

“Chan-ah,” Soonyoung calls out.

Chan straightens his back and comes to a halt in the middle of the room.

“Glad you could make it,” Soonyoung continues. As if Chan has ever denied Soonyoung a late night tryst in the practice room. “I need you,” he adds, gesturing Chan over.

Chan scoffs and rounds the table. “Yeah?” he asks.

Soonyoung hums in agreement. He steps up next to Chan and they both stare at each other in the mirror.

Making a thoughtful sound, Soonyoung takes a step closer to Chan’s side and puts a casual hand above Chan’s hip.

“Did you go outside wearing this?” Soonyoung asks, flicking the tip of his thumb in the waistband of Chan's joggers.

Chan flicks his eyes down to the point of contact. The pants in question are loose and grey, hanging onto his hips only due to the rise of his ass.

“No one's awake to see me; who cares?” Chan replies. His tone is slow with uncertainty. He looks up at Soonyoung again, warm in his chest, feeling a bead of sweat form on the back of his neck.

There's a faraway look in Soonyoung's eyes, though his gaze is still low.

“Your dick’s out,” Soonyoung says flatly, finally.

“Excuse me?” Chan blurts out in response.

When Chan looks up at Soonyoung again, there's a smile on his face. They hold each other's gazes for a split second and that's all it takes for Soonyoung to burst into laughter.

Chan is this close to stomping his foot. “Did you call me here to stare at my dick or did you want help or what?” he spits.

Soonyoung retreats to the table behind them and leans back against it. A smirk lingers on his lips, but his eyes stay trained on the spot in front of his feet.

“No, no, I want your help,” Soonyoung replies, though there's still a laugh in his throat.

Heaving a loud sigh that nearly echoes throughout the room, Chan follows Soonyoung over to the table. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, “you did tell me you needed me.”

“Always,” Soonyoung says sweetly as if he didn't just comment on Chan's bits half a second ago.

Soonyoung walks him through the half-coherent choreography scribbled on several different pages. It may be unfinished and messy, but Chan can see the direction in which it’s headed, and he's not sure if it's the late hour or if Soonyoung really is a genius but Chan really is impressed, all things considered.

“Okay, so,” Chan starts, following Soonyoung's lead, and Soonyoung picks up where he leaves off. They're a well-oiled machine, despite the loose ends, the empty spaces where their members fit, and Chan slowly comes to understand.

Slicking back his sweat-soaked hair, Soonyoung leans back against the mirror and meets Chan’s gaze.

“So?” he asks.

Chan nods. Soonyoung breaks out into a smile and they start from the top.

Almost an hour passes before their focus starts to deteriorate. _Focus_ is a fuzzy concept this late at night, but Soonyoung’s stubbornness is a force to be reckoned with and something Chan has always found contagious.

Their eyes meet in the mirror and Soonyoung stops. Chan follows suit, his chest heaving.

“God, you’re really about to pop out of these pants,” Soonyoung says with a slight laugh. He grabs the waistband of Chan’s pants and hauls them up as high as they’ll go.

Yelping, Chan acts on his first instinct to jump away, but Soonyoung maintains his grip and pins him in place. Now Chan can really see what Soonyoung was talking about earlier, about his dick, and the heat in his chest rises to his cheeks.

Soonyoung’s hands drift over to Chan’s ass and rest there. “They’re really just hanging onto this guy, huh,” he comments. He gives it a slight squeeze and the heat in Chan’s body flares.

“What the hell are you doing,” Chan asks, though part of him just _knows_.

Soonyoung’s always been an ass man and Chan has often been on the receiving end of his fondness.

Wearing a smile on his face, Soonyoung moves his hands and loops his arms around Chan’s waist, pulling him up against Soonyoung’s chest.

“Nothing,” Soonyoung singsongs. “I’m just—” He stops and trails off, breathing softly and quietly against the back of Chan’s neck. “Thanks for coming,” he finishes. “You really helped me out here.”

He squeezes Chan, sealing their bodies together in one long line of heat. The feeling lasts only for a moment, but Chan can feel the breath expanding Soonyoung’s chest, the sweat soaking Soonyoung’s shirt, the beat of his heart pounding against Soonyoung’s ribs.

“Of course,” Chan breathes. “Any time.”

Soonyoung goes in for another squeeze, but Chan flails his arms this time, yelling, “Stop! You’re sweaty! Get the fuck off me, for fuck’s sake!”

Laughing, Soonyoung backs off, but Chan can feel the ghost of Soonyoung’s body heat against his back. He rolls his eyes and flicks his hair out of them, but ultimately, he finds himself looking to Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for the next step.

Soonyoung meets his gaze easily, with a smile. He waves Chan over and they start from the top, going on until the sun rises beyond the practice room walls.

 

* * *

 

“Stop pacing; you’re giving me whiplash,” Chan comments, watching Seungkwan carve lines into the floor with his continuous movement.

“So stop watching me!” Seungkwan snaps.

Chan snorts and fishes his phone out of his pocket. He lowers his gaze, but he can feel Seungkwan finally stop moving to face him.

“Sorry,” Seungkwan says lowly. “You know I’m just—I’m just nervous.”

Seungkwan wrings his hands together by his waist. Chan holds back a sigh and looks up at him from his seat a few feet away.

He’d volunteered to listen to Seungkwan’s planned performance for his appearance on King of Masked Singer. Without a doubt, Chan knew Seungkwan was going to knock it out of the park, but he supposed there was still some room for nervousness, despite Seungkwan’s enormous talent.

“You know that’s not how you’re supposed to make him feel better, Chan-ah,” comes a voice from the entrance to the room.

Soonyoung strolls in and grabs a chair leaning against the wall before settling down next to Chan.

“Come on, let’s hear it, Seungkwannie,” Soonyoung says. He beams up at Seungkwan and waves his hand in a beckoning gesture.

Seungkwan puffs out his cheeks. “I’m gonna wear out my voice if I act on your _whims,_ hyung,” he huffs.

Soonyoung continues to smile and wave his hand. “Come on, Seungkwan-ah,” is all he says.

Raising an eyebrow, Seungkwan looks at Chan. “Did you summon him here?” he asks.

Chan looks down at his phone. He has an unread message from Soonyoung.

“No,” Chan says. “I guess he must have just heard you from the other room.”

“Since your voice is so powerful and all,” Soonyoung chimes in.

Chan gives Soonyoung a sideways look. With the same air of suspicion, Seungkwan takes a step towards Soonyoung.

“Do you want something?” Seungkwan asks.

The smile on Soonyoung’s face dies down a fraction. “What,” he starts, “can’t I cheer you on? Can’t I be genuine about enjoying your voice?”

For a second, the tension in Soonyoung’s expression is mirrored in Seungkwan’s face. It’s not the same feeling, no, but they share a hesitation and uncertainty that Chan can’t quite pin down.

“No,” Seungkwan replies after a moment. “Of course you can. I’d love that. You know that.”

“Exactly,” Soonyoung says. “I do know that. Now let’s hear it!”

Seungkwan glances at Chan, then at the door, then at his shoes. Then, he pulls out his phone and puts on the background music for his performance.

Chan has always been—well, he doesn’t want to say _jealous_ because that’s not a positive thing, but it’s close, and he’s still working on his ability to articulate his ideas—jealous of Seungkwan’s voice. It often battles with strong admiration, and in the end he’s seized with emotion either way.

Seungkwan’s eyes flicker to him. He holds Seungkwan’s gaze for a few seconds, wrapped in the sound of Seungkwan’s voice and its power, its velvety smoothness, its rich sweetness. Something builds in Chan’s throat and he has to look away.

Before long, the song is over, and Soonyoung gets to his feet and claps. Immediately, Seungkwan leaps at him, nearly bowling him over, laughing and out of breath.

“Stop exaggerating,” Seungkwan says, his breath still mostly out of his throat.

“I’m not! I’m not!” Soonyoung insists, a laugh in this chest as well. “I swear I’m not. It was really good, Seungkwannie!”

Seungkwan loops his arms around Soonyoung's waist and sighs. Smiling, Soonyoung pats the top of his head.

“You'll do well, Seungkwan-ah,” Soonyoung tells him. “You know you've got a great voice.”

A wide smile pulls at Seungkwan's mouth. “Sure,” he says, “but I could probably stand to hear it more.”

“You've got a good voice, hyung,” Chan calls out from his seat.

For a second, Chan felt like he was in a different room—but somehow, he didn't mind. There's something heartwarming about watching his two friends playing around like this. It was enough just to watch.

Seungkwan wanders over, Soonyoung's hands caught in his back pocket. He takes Soonyoung's seat, forcing Soonyoung to let him go, and rests his head on Chan’s shoulder.

“You flatter me,” Seungkwan say lowly.

Chan snorts. He reaches out and grabs Seungkwan's hand and just barely puts their fingers together.

“It's true,” Chan says, trying to communicate his thoughts without sounding forced. “You'll be great on the show.”

Seungkwan beams. Soonyoung leans over his shoulders and rests his cheek against the side of Seungkwan's head.

“You're right,” Seungkwan says, just the tiniest hint of finality in his tone. “You're right. I'll be just fine.”

“Practice some more and you'll do great,” Soonyoung tells him. “Come on, I know you've got more. Let's go.”

Making a sound between a snort and a laugh, Seungkwan lets Soonyoung haul him to his feet. Before they get too far, Seungkwan grabs Chan by the wrist and the three of them head off to consult Seungkwan's performance notes.

 

* * *

 

Caratland comes before anyone knows it. The _Thanks_ choreo is going to debut soon, and Soonyoung is a bit nervous. This will be their first time performing before their MV drops

This will also be their first time performing the full version of Lilili Yabbay. He’s especially proud of that choreography, but fuck if it isn't hard as hell.

Soonyoung is sweating before he even gets on stage and it's the beginning of February. It's not exactly an ideal situation.

As Seungkwan passes by him in the dressing room, his eyes meet Soonyoung's in the vanity mirror. He stops.

“Hyung?” he asks, putting a hand on the back of Soonyoung's chair. Almost immediately, he withdraws it, grimacing.

“God, your back is so fucking sweaty already,” he comments. “Lucky we’re still hours away from starting.”

A snarl curls Soonyoung's face for about a second. Then, Soonyoung takes a deep breath and exhales it in a sigh.

“Are you nervous?” Soonyoung asks.

“Me?” Seungkwan replies. He hums in thought. “Well, yeah,” he says, “a lot of fans are gonna be there. I’ve got a lot of stuff prepared, though, so hopefully that'll be enough.”

He looks over to catch Soonyoung's gaze, outside the mirror this time.

“I’m counting on you, you know,” Seungkwan states. “You don't have room to be nervous.”

Soonyoung scoffs, lowering his head. “As if it were that easy,” he mutters.

“Cheer up, man,” Seungkwan tells him, patting Soonyoung's back and knocking some of his breath from his lungs. “We got this. You'll be too excited to be nervous once we start rehearsals.”

And, as usual, Seungkwan is right. The venue is huge—not as big as their outdoor concert last July, but still. This fanmeeting is supposed to be more intimate than that, though this year's event is going to be bigger than last year's Caratland.

That's the thing with Seventeen: things are always bigger than the last. Things are always bigger and better, always growing. Soonyoung loves it, wouldn't have it any other way, but he's only human; sometimes the pressure gets to him.

But once he sits at the edge of the stage, legs dangling, he feels at ease. Small, but human—imperfect, but loved despite that truth.

He hears footsteps approach from behind him.

“Thinking, or tired?” he hears Chan say. Chan rests a hand on his shoulder.

Soonyoung hums. “Can I say both?” he asks in response.

Using Soonyoung's shoulder as an aid, Chan lowers himself to sit next to his hyung, knocking their knees together.

“Penny for your thoughts, then?” Chan asks.

Again, Soonyoung hums.

“It's just… You know. We're doing a lot this year. But our fans don't expect anything from us other than us just being us,” Soonyoung explains, albeit with some uncertainty. If there’s a better way to word the thoughts running through his head, he doesn’t know; he doesn’t quite know how exactly he’s feeling, either.

“Doing more _is_ us, though,” Chan says.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. He nods, mostly to himself. “Yeah. And it’s just—amazing to me, you know? The way fans love us. They don’t know us; they know what we do on stage, and what we do on stage is for them, obviously, so it’s all, like, a cycle…”

As he talks, Soonyoung realizes that he still doesn’t really know what he’s saying, but Chan is looking at him intently, warmly, a hand on Soonyoung’s knee.

In the end, Soonyoung shrugs. He dances his fingers over the top of Chan’s knuckles as he finishes with, “So, you know. I’m just feeling thankful that we can do what we love and be loved for it.”

Chan smiles at him and sings _Thanks_ and Soonyoung launches himself at Chan, easily pinning him to the stage. They wrestle for a little bit, though Chan’s never really been good at fighting back despite his greater strength, before Soonyoung lets up to lie down on his back. He stares up at the beams and the lights streaking above him and Chan settles next to him, pressing their shoulders together.

“I think I get it,” Chan says eventually.

“Yeah?”

Soonyoung doesn’t turn to look at him.

“Maybe,” Chan replies, a touch more hesitant this time. “Well, obviously not one hundred percent. Congrats on understanding the theme of the comeback song, hyung.”

Grumbling, Soonyoung sits up. When he makes eye contact with Chan, Chan is already moving out of the way of the half-hearted swipe Soonyoung takes at him.

“Did you come here to bully me or what?” Soonyoung snaps. “Am I not allowed to think about these things?”

At first, Chan flinches at his tone; Soonyoung always sounds much harsher than he means to. But Chan only shrugs, a crooked smile on his face.

“I’m just teasing. Chill,” he says, a lightness to his shoulders that makes Soonyoung want to pin him down again.

Instead, Soonyoung sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Probably just the nerves talking,” he mutters, “making me talk out my ass and shit.”

Chan’s hand follows Soonyoung's and he ruffles the somewhat sweaty mess on top of Soonyoung's head. Now he's really asking for it.

“Thinking about the BooSeokSoon debut?” Chan asks.

“Among other things,” Soonyoung replies. He snatches Chan's hand before Chan takes it back and he starts to play with Chan's fingers. “That, debuting Thanks, doing Lilili Yabbay…”

“You can't worry about everything, hyung.”

“Well, you're the one who asked,” Soonyoung spits back.

Smiling, Chan laces their fingers together. His lips stay sealed in that quiet expression as he wordlessly tugs Soonyoung to his feet.

“Listen,” Chan says as he begins to walk Soonyoung around the stage, “just count on me. I guess I can’t help out with Just Do It, so you’re on your own for that one. But everything else—you've got me on your side. Foolproof.”

Chan stops them at the other side of the stage. Soonyoung looks out to the empty seat and feels small again; this time, however, with Chan’s hand in his, he remembers that he’s not alone in this. He has his group with him, his team, to help him shine before the fans who allow him to be here in the first place.

“You’re a piece of work,” Soonyoung says, turning to Chan with a crooked smile on his face.

Chan grins, beaming brightly. “Thank you!” he chirps.

“Gonna take that as a compliment, then?”

“Of course. I am a piece of work, constantly under construction to be the best I can be and present the best Seventeen that I can.”

With a furrowed brow, Soonyoung starts looking around.

“That’s strange,” he says. “I don’t see any cameras around, and yet—”

Now it’s Chan’s turn to take a swipe at Soonyoung.

“Obviously,” Chan says with an amused smile, “I’m just practicing. Gotta stay sharp, hyung.”

Soonyoung hooks an arm around the back of Chan’s neck and starts to drag him to the dressing rooms. “If that’s the case,” he says, “let’s round up your unit members and start practicing Lilili Yabbay. God knows it’s never too early to start with that.”

 

* * *

 

Everything goes smoothly. Of course it does. Still, Soonyoung thinks there is nothing wrong with a little healthy anxiety—anything that keeps them on their toes and ready to adapt if necessary.

Before BooSeokSoon goes up for their special debut stage, the three of them make their own huddle, hands linked by the thumbs. It’s strange. The circle feels small and big at the same time, the spaces between their bodies too wide and too narrow all at once.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath.

“We’ve been together since we were trainees,” Soonyoung begins. He feels the eyes of his two members on him, their gazes heavy with expectation. “We’ve done shit together just for laughs; we’ve done shit together for the fans. We’ve done a hell of a lot of both.”

Seokmin giggles a bit at that, squeezing Soonyoung’s thumb.

“We’ve done a whole lot of shit,” Soonyoung continues, “and now it’s brought us to the stage. Are we ready to show the world what we’re made of?”

“Shit?!” Seungkwan exclaims. Seokmin yells something unintelligible, echoing his sudden cry.

“Yeah!!” Soonyoung screams back. “We’re made of shit and now it’s time to show the world!!”

Somewhere from behind them, Jihoon groans and says, “What the hell are you fucking talking about?”

The three of them break into laughter, just barely holding onto each other’s thumbs, using their free hands to grab onto whatever part of each other they can reach.

“We are!” Soonyoung starts.

“Boo!”

“Seok!”

“Soon!!”

And with that, the rest of the members start cheering, their voices following Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung down the exit leading to the stage.

 

When they return backstage, they’re all sweating profusely. Seungkwan’s using his discarded suit jacket to dab at his forehead.

“Don’t do that,” Hansol fusses at him, greeting him when he steps into the room. Several stylists echo the sentiment and replace the jacket with towels.

Soonyoung looks at Seungkwan and they lock gazes in seconds. Then, he looks at Seokmin and receives a wide, bright smile.

“Shut up,” Seungkwan groans. “How can you smile like that after dancing in a fucking three-piece suit?”

“Like this,” Seokmin replies, easily hooking an arm around Seungkwan’s waist to pull him closer and shove his grin in his dongsaeng’s face.

Seungkwan makes a noise of disgust and swats him away. Laughing, Seokmin gives Seungkwan a squeeze before moving away to relinquish his costume to the hovering stylists.

“Hey,” Seungkwan calls to Soonyoung, “why’d you make us do that, huh? You think a main vocalist like me can handle all that cardio while belting my fucking lungs out?”

Although Soonyoung rolls his eyes, it’s not long before a grin pulls at his mouth. “In a group of three, you gotta pull your weight same as me, ‘main vocalist’,” he replies. “You’ve got about the same amount of parts as me, Seungkwan-ah.”

“I’ve still got the high note!” Seungkwan whines.

“It’s more impressive when you do it with sweat streaming down your face,” Soonyoung tells him. His shit-eating grin spreads his cheeks apart. “It’s a pretty picture, you know.”

Seungkwan huffs at him, his own cheeks rounded and reddened. “You’re full of shit,” he complains.

“We established this before the performance, Seungkwannie; tell me something I don’t know.”

“I swear to god I’m gonna tear you to shreds,” Seungkwan threatens him before he’s dragged off to get changed again.

As Seungkwan gets crowded by people with towels and brushes and sponges, Soonyoung smiles to himself. He lifts his arms and follows the orders given to him by his own stylists, but his eyes linger on Seungkwan.

It doesn't take long for Seungkwan to settle in his chair, coaxed calm and pliant by responsibility and politeness. He’s patched up and polished and put together again, good as new, in no time; it's a transformation Soonyoung has seen in various ways over and over, but it's always the little things that trip him up, catch his eye, make him think.

Has Seungkwan's jaw always cut the light that way? Have his cheekbones always reflected light at that angle?

It's a joy to watch his dongsaengs grow. It's a privilege to see them like this, so intimately that he’s memorized the details in their skin, the birthmarks and nicks and scars that make them unique.

But Seungkwan has always been under a special kind of light to Soonyoung. They're always watching each other; they're always waiting on each other's cues, be it a simple glance or a line in a script. They dance around each other, steps measured, so close that stepping on feet happens occasionally. But they continue to dance nonetheless.

Eventually, they're rushed off to join the other members backstage. They receive congratulations for the performance, great job, it was amazing, you guys were great! And soon enough, Soonyoung's distracted again, mind pulled every which way, moving in time with his members, singing his big heart out.

But all it takes is a glance at Seungkwan to know that the dance continues nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

They arrive in Japan without a hitch. Seungkwan's been glued to his phone, waiting for something to pop up on social media.

Jeonghan adjusts his face mask as he looks away from where he was monitoring Seungkwan's activities from over his shoulder.

“What’s got you so on-edge, Seungkwannie?” Jeonghan asks as he loops an easy arm around Seungkwan’s waist.

Sighing, Seungkwan rests his head against Jeonghan’s shoulder. Their walking speed slows as they try to accommodate each other, but it’s comfy, an awkward yet rhythmic shifting of plates as they move.

“I’m waiting for something,” Seungkwan replies. He thought Jeonghan of all people would know by now.

“Obviously,” Jeonghan says. He navigates them around the hustle and bustle in the airport; most of their overly curious fans have been shooed away. Strange that they would even show up in the first place, considering the late hour.

“But what is it?” Jeonghan asks.

Coming at them in a flurry of footsteps, Soonyoung just barely avoids crashing into them. Jeonghan opens his arms to reach for him, correcting his weight on his feet.

“It’s out now!” Soonyoung cries.

Something warm flickers in Seungkwan’s stomach. It lights the fuse sitting at the bottom of his lungs, immediately setting his heart on fire.

Jeonghan whines and swipes at Seungkwan’s phone, but Seungkwan dodges him and turns his head away.

“What!” Jeonghan cries. “What is it!”

“My OST!” Seungkwan exclaims in response. “For the drama _Mother!_ I’ve been waiting ever since we landed to see the post!”

A wide smile lights up Soonyoung’s face as he beams at Seungkwan.

“It’s beautiful, Seungkwannie,” he says, and although Seungkwan would never say it out loud, the praise has him tingling from head to toe.

Seungkwan ducks his head a little, rubbing the back of his neck. It earns him a hip bump from Soonyoung before he’s tugged away from one of the managers for a scolding; if he makes a ruckus in the airport at 11:30p.m., people are going to be pissed, and no one likes to piss people off at an airport.

Jeonghan makes a noise of comprehension before he unlocks his phone and starts scrolling through it in search of the post. They make casual conversation about the production as they make their way to the hotel.

When choosing roommates, the group usually picks their own. Some members are consistent: Jeonghan usually pairs up with Seokmin because he’s used to his sleeping habits; Mingyu and Minghao have so much in common and are practically glued at the hip; and Jisoo and Hansol are both quiet souls who know how to keep to themselves.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung seek each other out this time, but Seungkwan knows it's not for any particular reason besides the fact that he likes Soonyoung a lot lately. Not only did Soonyoung text him every time he went to an individual shooting, but he also greeted him in the morning to give him words of encouragement.

It was hard to go out on his own like that; although Seungkwan sees himself as flexible and ready to adapt to anything that comes his way, it takes a lot out of him. At least with his members, he can anticipate anything that might go out of hand. He can even turn things around to his own advantage; that's how well he knows the rest of the group.

But every time he's featured somewhere else, it's a blessing. He's still just a kid and it means a lot to him to be recognized by his seniors in the business.

With a huff, Seungkwan sets his luggage at the foot of his bed. Then, without even taking off his coat, he collapses onto his bed. In seconds, he hears a similar rustle of fabric on the other side of the room.

“I’m hungry,” Soonyoung says after about five minutes of lying down.

Seungkwan is already half asleep but the thought of food strikes a chord in his body—right dead centre in his stomach.

“Room service?” Seungkwan asks, sitting up.

He looks over and finds Soonyoung with his coat half on, pooled around his shoulders, and his phone hovering over his face.

“I don't want to deal with the language barrier right now, so I’m texting a manager,” he replies. “Also, it seems that Jihoon has already ordered half a menu from a takeout place down the street.”

“Who's he rooming with?” Seungkwan asks.

“I think Seungcheol-hyung.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“They're working on something together,” Soonyoung replies.

“And that's code for…?”

“I don't want to think about it.”

Seungkwan scoffs. “What, not in the mood for gossip?”

“Maybe after I’ve eaten.”

Only when they’ve confirmed their late-night dinner order do they finally pull off their outerwear. Soonyoung dabs at some sweat on his brow and Seungkwan tries his best to ignore him rather than laugh at the sight.

The room falls into easy quiet for a while. At some point between receiving the styrofoam packages and opening them, Seungkwan puts on some music from his laptop.

“Look at this,” Seungkwan says, brandishing a bluetooth speaker. “One of Seokmin-hyung’s abandoned purchases.”

“He could probably raise an army of speakers and headphones against us,” Soonyoung replies. He doesn’t look up from inspecting the takeout boxes. “Dude, we better eat this while it’s still hot.”

And so Seungkwan hurries over to partake in his share. Their mouths are too full for gossip, and the food ends up being so good that Seungkwan forgets about his hyungs entirely.

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful. Soonyoung calls for the bathroom first, and Seungkwan nearly falls asleep to the sound of the water hitting the porcelain tub, the hollow, rhythmic sound soothing his tired body.

“Fuck!”

Seungkwan sits up with a start and almost clambers onto his feet, but his legs are wrapped up in the bedsheets.

“Whazzit?” Seungkwan slurs. “You ok?”

“S-Seungkwan—” Soonyoung starts, a warning on his tongue, but then Seungkwan opens his eyes all the way and Soonyoung stops talking.

Standing a few feet away from the open bathroom door is Soonyoung—stark naked. Water runs down his body like he didn’t even bother to towel himself down.

Speaking of down, that’s where Seungkwan’s eyes go within seconds.

“For fuck’s sake—” Soonyoung groans, the end of his words rising in pitch. He doesn’t even bother trying to cover up, but he does turn and head back to the bathroom.

“Go back to sleep, Seungkwan-ah,” he calls over his shoulder. “It was just a spider. Hopefully it was too underwhelmed by my dick, like you, and left in disinterest.”

The door closes before Seungkwan can even fully comprehend what Soonyoung said. Soonyoung’s obsession with his dick really goes to such lengths.

For a while, Seungkwan contemplates a response, listening for Soonyoung’s movements through the wall. He plans to say something as soon as Soonyoung emerges once again.

However, when Soonyoung comes out again, he’s still naked. He doesn’t seem to notice that Seungkwan’s still awake; he walks around the room at a leisurely pace, examining the room. At least now he’s completely dry and not making a mess of the carpet.

Eventually, he comes back to bed, sitting right across Seungkwan with everything on display. After a few minutes of scrolling through his phone, he looks up and meets Seungkwan’s eye without a hint of shame in his face.

“Take a picture,” is all he says, “it’ll last longer.”

Seungkwan tries to sit up, ready to deliver his comeback, but the sheets pin him down again. As he struggles to right his posture, he feels the weight on his thighs and hips grow heavier, and when he looks up again he sees Soonyoung sitting comfortably in his lap.

“Or did you want the motion picture?” Soonyoung asks. There’s a smirk on his lips—and who gave him the right, anyway, acting all smug and breaching Seungkwan’s personal bubble—that warps his expression.

The light in the room hits Soonyoung at all the wrong angles; all Seungkwan can see is his shoulders and his curved lips.

Again, Seungkwan tries to speak, but his mouth won’t budge. It’s like it’s been sealed shut with a needle and thread; he can barely let breath pass from his lungs.

“You’re so cute,” Soonyoung coos at him, reaching down to brush some of Seungkwan’s hair out of his face. Heat prickles at every point of contact before gathering in the basin of his pelvis.

Looking down, Soonyoung chuckles. It doesn’t take much effort at all for him to part the bedsheets, Seungkwan’s restraints, and settle so that they’re hip to hip, skin to skin.

A wave of heat rolls through the entire length of Seungkwan’s body. He gasps for air, trying to remember when he got undressed, trying to wrap his head around the situation, but his head has been flooded with heat and he can’t focus.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan finally manages to gasp, reaching out to grab Soonyoung’s arm.

He comes up with nothing. His fingers swipe through the air before landing with a soft puff at his side, barely rustling the sheets.

Silence greets him as the fog starts to clear from his head. The quiet is cold but a liberating pull of sensation that draws him back to the real world.

It was a dream. It was all a dream, and Soonyoung is all snug in bed, lightly snoring like nothing happened.

Well, nothing did happen. All that happened was that Seungkwan’s brain tried to pull a fast one on him after seeing Soonyoung’s freshly showered body.

Since when was twinky dancing hamster his type? Or is he just so horny that his dick wants the closest warm body?

Seungkwan sits up. At least he didn’t make too much of a mess; it was a contained incident. Now is probably a good time for that shower.

 

* * *

 

“You doing okay?”

Seungkwan looks up from his bento box and meets Hansol’s eye. Sighing, he pushes around the rice left in its little compartment with his chopsticks.

“Why do you ask?” Seungkwan replies without looking up.

“Well, you only ate half your lunch,” Hansol starts, “and you also haven’t said much since we sat down.”

“Just nervous about meeting the Japanese carats,” Seungkwan says without missing a beat.

“Bullshit.”

“Language, Hansol.”

Hansol snorts.

“I mean, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Hansol says. “Just thought I’d ask.”

And that’s the thing about Hansol: he never digs too deep. He never pushes his boundaries, even though Seungkwan’s giving him all the green lights to pry away.

“It’s Soonyoung,” Seungkwan eventually says, heaving a long-suffering sigh.

“Yeah?” Hansol asks. “You’re rooming with him, right?”

Seungkwan looks up. The concern on Hansol’s face is genuine; and that’s another thing about Hansol—he’s always so sincere, to the point where all Seungkwan wants to do is hold him close and pet his hair.

“I am,” Seungkwan says, nodding.

“So what happened?”

“Nothing _happened.”_

“Again, calling bullshit.”

Seungkwan sighs. He pushes the rice around again before saying, “I had a dream about him last night.”

“Uh huh?”

“Like—” Seungkwan sighs again, though it begins to cross into groan territory. “I had _a dream_ about him, Hansol.”

Hansol hums, waiting patiently for Seungkwan to get to the point. It’s a fun little game Seungkwan likes to play every now and then, usually just to see if Hansol is _really_ listening to him. But maybe Seungkwan’s a little tongue-tied—a rare occurrence, really, Hansol should consider himself lucky.

Seungkwan looks down again. “Like—it was like, a wet dream, Hansol.”

For a moment, Hansol’s only response is his rhythmic breathing. Another moment passes before Seungkwan gathers the nerve to look him in the eye.

Hansol’s face is blank; he can’t decide how he’s feeling.

“Is that why you decided to room with him?” Hansol asks. “Do you, like—do you have a crush on him, or something?”

“That is _not_ why I picked him as my roommate,” Seungkwan hisses. When Hansol flinches at his tone, Seungkwan reels it back a bit, deflating.

“It’s a new development,” Seungkwan continues. “You can’t plan a _dream_ , Hansol.”

“Point taken.” Hansol sits up a bit and crosses his arms over his chest. “So—how do you feel about him?”

“Don’t make this about _him_ , Hansol,” Seungkwan complains. “Obviously my hormones are out of check and I just, like, need more sleep, or something.”

“Maybe you just need some quality time with yourself,” Hansol says, having the audacity to smirk.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Hansol laughs, but the sound is so contagious that Seungkwan finds himself laughing too. It is pretty fucking ridiculous; why not laugh?

“Seriously, though,” Hansol says, “do you think this is just a one-time thing, or…?”

“I can’t tell the future, Hansol,” Seungkwan replies with a sigh. “But I hope it is.”

“Hang in there, Seungkwan.”

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t stay a one-time thing.

Ever since that night, Seungkwan starts to notice every single little thing Soonyoung does or says to him that’s the least bit suggestive. And, although he does think he’s going a little crazy, it happens way too often for it to be normal.

A touch on the hip there, a pinch on the ass there, too many incidents of sharing food and wiping food from Seungkwan’s chin. And maybe he acts sloppy on purpose a few times, but it’s still damning evidence.

The only way to make sure he isn’t totally crazy is to spill his story to someone else to double-check facts—and who better to compare notes with than Soonyoung’s favourite dongsaeng, Lee Chan?

They’re at a really cute cafe downtown, their babysitting manager occupied with his phone. Still, Seungkwan leans in close when he feels the time is right.

“Chan-ah,” he says, “I’m about to tell you some very sensitive information.”

Chan quirks a brow as he sips his cappuccino. He lowers his cup but lifts his eyebrow higher as he responds, “Oh? Our Boo Seungkwan has some hot goss?”

Seungkwan glances around surreptitiously. The shop is fairly busy given it is early in the afternoon, but the language barrier means no one pays them any attention. His gaze lingers on their manager, but he still looks busy with his phone and his food.

“Sort of,” Seungkwan says. He takes a deep breath, releases it, then locks eyes with Chan. “It’s a personal issue. So this doesn’t leave the table.”

Chan leans back as if physically burdened with the information. But then he leans in again, so close his elbows almost touch Seungkwan’s.

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

So Seungkwan recounts the tale of his dream, this time with a little more detail than what was given the last time he dared to speak of the incident aloud to Hansol.

“And he was all smooth and shit, asking if I wanted ‘the motion picture’ or what the fuck ever,” Seungkwan says.

Chan gives a low whistle. “Your brain is still writing scripts for him, I guess,” Chan replies.

Seungkwan’s ears flare with heat. If that really is the case, maybe his subconscious is telling him more about himself through this dream than he initially thought.

“Anyway, he was on my lap and—yeah. We were naked, there was touching, and I woke up like—like how people usually do after dreams like these,” Seungkwan finishes.

When he stops talking, it seems as if the whole cafe goes silent. Seungkwan glances around again, more quickly this time; no one’s even looking in their direction. It seems like their manager is falling asleep in front of his cake.

“So you’re saying you saw his dick and then you had a wet dream about it?” Chan asks.

Flailing his arms forward, Seungkwan hurries to hush Chan. “Careful!” he hisses. “Not so loud!”

Chan grabs both Seungkwan’s hands and sets them firmly on the table. He rubs his thumbs against the backs of them, and the pressure immediately soothes Seungkwan’s panic.

“Chill out, hyung,” Chan says to him lowly. “Let’s start from the top—firstly, why are you telling me about this? This kinda thing seems like something you’d take to the grave.”

Seungkwan hums. The answer should be obvious—he couldn’t bear to hold it all in.

To think his brain is on a special mission to drive him off the wall and beyond return.

“Well,” Seungkwan starts, “you see, I think you also have a special relationship with Kwon Soonyoung. So I thought maybe you’d have some insight about it all.”

Chan purses his lips and leans back. However, their hands are still clasped together, and Seungkwan tightens his grip to anchor him in place.

“Come on, Chan,” Seungkwan says, “I told you some really personal shit. If you can help me out with this, I’d be eternally grateful.”

Chan’s initial reaction was already enough to tell Seungkwan his hunch was right and that Chan was the right person to talk to. Slowly but surely, a blush rises to Chan’s cheeks and ears.

“Okay,” Chan says. He sighs, deflating. “Well—you know Soonyoung-hyung. He’s a handsy guy, and sometimes he… How do I say this—Sometimes he’s shameless.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Seungkwan says flatly.

“Sometimes it’s not even just being handsy. Sometimes it feels like he just straight out flirts,” Chan continues.

“Uh huh, uh huh?”

Chan looks down at the table. “So—maybe he has also inspired… some thoughts from me,” Chan admits.

Again, quiet sprouts between them as they both pause to drink in the information.

“Do you think he’s playing us?” Seungkwan asks.

Chan continues to stare at the table. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I mean—maybe he doesn’t have any intentions behind these things. Maybe he does them because he just wants to.”

“But doesn’t wanting to imply something?” Seungkwan fires back.

Chan shrugs. “Maybe,” he says. “It’s likely. But it doesn’t mean anything unless he wants it to mean something. And it doesn’t have to mean anything to us unless we want it to, right?”

Seungkwan hums. He plays with Chan’s fingers as he considers this.

“Maybe we should gather more data and collect notes,” Seungkwan suggests, hoping for light and playful.

Chan stares down at their hands before he looks up and meets Seungkwan’s gaze. His blush is lingering in his skin, painting him a cute and pretty pink.

“Guess that’s the logical course of action,” he says in vague agreement. But he nods, which is good enough for Seungkwan.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Seungkwan says. “We’ll see if things change over the duration of this trip.”

Chan nods again. He heaves a heavy sigh before grabbing his coffee cup and downing the rest of it.

“I’ll keep you updated,” he promises Seungkwan.

 

* * *

 

Their first concert in Tokyo goes swimmingly. Chan enjoys a lot of takoyaki, some on camera, most of it not. They relocate to Osaka for their next show and fansign, but roommate assignments stay the same for convenience.

They get one day off before their fansign in Osaka. Chan really wanted to go sightseeing at a historic site, Osaka Castle, and he knew just who to ask to accompany him.

However, when Chan finally pins Soonyoung down alone, he doesn’t display the kind of enthusiasm he’d hoped for considering the nature of the activity they were about to embark on.

“You didn’t have to come,” Chan says eventually, quietly, half hoping Soonyoung wouldn’t hear him as he dozed in the back of the car.

But Soonyoung does turn his head to look at him. His eyes seem weary, but he manages a smile.

“If you wanted my company, how could I say no to my cute maknae?” he jokes. He aims a gentle punch to Chan’s shoulder. “Besides, I think it’ll be fun. It’s just—been a long week, you know. You were there.”

“Yeah,” Chan agrees. He looks up at Soonyoung and smiles back. “Well, I appreciate it a lot. That you decided to come with me.”

Soonyoung reaches out and grabs at Chan’s fingers. The contact is easy and welcome in the late February cold. Chan latches on without a word.

Despite the dark that has fallen over the castle grounds, there are groups of visitors travelling throughout the site. It isn’t hard to find a guide that helps them despite the language barrier; they even receive translated info pamphlets that Chan gets into immediately.

The architecture is beautiful and the light dusting of snow reflecting the ambient lamp light paints a breathtaking landscape. Chan’s neck ends up sore from craning his head around to look everywhere, trying to take in everything at once.

They take a break at some empty picnic tables. Their accompanying manager walks off to find some food after recording some Going Seventeen footage.

Chan takes a few more gulps of his milk tea before setting it on the table. He moved to sit on top of it to allow Soonyoung to extend his entire body along the length of the bench.

“Are you having fun, hyung?” Chan asks, looking down at him.

“Of course,” Soonyoung replies without missing a beat. “But it’s getting late—and we can have a proper meal back at the hotel.”

Chan takes a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing.

“Are you—asking me to come home with you?” he jokes. It comes off a bit weak thanks to the waver in his voice, but the nighttime darkness should at least mask his blush.

“Yes,” Soonyoung replies slowly. He sits up just as slowly, rising to hug his knees. He looks up at Chan with a curious cock of his head. “You do live with me, after all.”

Chan looks away to the bright beacon of the vending machines.

“Right,” Chan mumbles, “of course.”

Silence stretches over the small food court for some cold, sharp moments.

“Chan,” Soonyoung starts, “was that a—”

“Alright!” Chan exclaims, jumping to his feet. He knocks over his milk tea in the process, but Soonyoung catches it before it hits the ground.

With an expectant gaze, Soonyoung holds out the drink. Chan avoids his eyes as he approaches Soonyoung to take it back. His eyes dart to the vending machines, to the lamps in the ground, to the frost reflecting light at their feet.

“Thanks, hyung,” Chan says lowly as he reaches for the drink. At the last second, Soonyoung reels it out of his reach, and Chan nearly trips over him. He ends up chest to chest with his hyung, immediately bombarded with warmth coming from within his wool coat.

“If you want something, Channie, you can just tell me,” Soonyoung murmurs. He tilts his head so that his lips just barely brush Chan’s cheek. “You don’t need to take me on a sightseeing date and bribe me with green tea if you want something from me. We can talk. I don’t bite.”

Chan’s first thought is _yeah, right_ quickly followed by _but I don’t mind._ He’s got a traitorous brain.

“I think—” Chan pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “I think you’re the one who wants something from me, hyung. Maybe I brought you out here to butter you up before calling you out on your shit.”

Soonyoung takes a step back, but he’s still very much in Chan’s personal space.

“Yeah? What’re you saying, then?” he asks.

“W-Well—”

Chan’s losing his nerve. He has no idea where he was going with this, and now he’s the one being called out. His bluff is falling apart with hardly any force at all.

As Chan remains silent, Soonyoung laughs, but without malice, warmly.

“Let me take you home, then,” Soonyoung offers. “If you’re the wine and dine type, we can pick up some sake and a bento on our way home. Or we can just get straight to the point.”

Chan has to swallow again, his throat is so dry.

“I thought you said you were hungry, though?” Chan asks.

Soonyoung is already texting the manager to come pick them up. “We can always get delivery,” is all he says.

Chan has to jog to catch up.

 

* * *

 

[Chan]: uhhh i think soonyoung propositioned me?

[Chan]: what the fuck do i do

[Seungkwan]: so that’s why he asked me if i was going to the gym tonight. i legit thought he wanted to work out, not that he wanted me out of the room

[Seungkwan]: what the fuck happened dude???

 

Chan gives him a summary of what happened at Osaka Castle.

 

[Seungkwan]: proud of you for going for it dude

[Seungkwan]: not surprised you couldn’t follow through but one step at a time i guess

[Chan]: hey shut the fuck up?

[Chan]: i kinda think he’s not joking tho

[Seungkwan]: well he’s not gonna do anything if you don’t want him to

[Seungkwan]: so i guess it’s a matter of whether or not you want him to

[Seungkwan]: do you?

 

That question is too heavy for Chan to answer at the moment. Besides, he’s still occupied with the present.

“What you feeling, Channie?” Soonyoung asks as he stares at his phone. “Fried rice? Noodles? Soup?”

“Huh? What?”

“Food, Chan-ah,” Soonyoung tells him. He blindly reaches out and slaps a hand to Chan’s knee. “You’re still hungry, right?”

“Uh,” Chan stammers. The hand on his knee climbs a bit higher up his thigh before squeezing. “Yeah. Rice is fine. You can pick; I don’t care.”

Soonyoung hums his understanding before poking at menus on his phone.

 

[Seungkwan]: do you????

[Seungkwan]: dude, answer me!!

[Seungkwan]: i don’t care if you want to fuck him, dude. go nuts. i’m not gonna be jealous or anything. but don’t do anything because you don’t know how to say no

[Chan]: you sure you’re not gonna be jealous?

 

There’s a pause between Chan’s text and Seungkwan’s and Chan holds his breath the whole time.

 

[Seungkwan]: well do you think he’s playing us?

 

Chan feels his breath stagger in his throat.

 

[Chan]: i dont exactly know if i can answer that in this position

[Seungkwan]: don’t tell me you guys are already getting at it

[Chan]: we’re still on the road dude! chill!

[Seungkwan]: you sound nervous

[Seungkwan]: im just saying, dude. think about it. there’s no room for doubt here. at all.

 

The ride back to the hotel is much shorter than Chan anticipated and they arrive before his brain can really catch up with everything. Their manager bids them farewell in the elevator, leaving Chan alone with Soonyoung for several floors.

Soonyoung’s hand finds Chan’s without trouble.

“You doing okay?” Soonyoung asks.

Chan nods. “Just fine. I thought you were the one who was tired, hyung,” he replies.

“I _was,”_ Soonyoung responds. “Emphasis on was.”

The elevator dings and their conversation ends. Soonyoung leads them to his room, and after flashing his card at the door, they step inside.

It’s dark and slightly cold.

“Did Seungkwan forget to leave the heater on?” Soonyoung wonders aloud as he starts to shed his outer layers.

Chan stands in the doorway and finds himself content to look around. The space isn’t exactly tidy, but it could be worse. There are takeout boxes stacked in several trash cans around the room and some water bottles of various fullness scattered all over whatever flat surface can fit them.

Slowly, Chan toes off his boots and undoes his coat. He hangs it up in the closet by the door and smooths it down, biding his time.

As Soonyoung fusses with the heater, a knock comes to the door and nearly forces Chan’s heart out of his throat.

If that’s Seungkwan, Chan won’t know what to do besides combust and burn to ashes right then and there in that godforsaken hotel room—

“That’s the food!” Soonyoung calls. “Can you get it?”

Fear keeps Chan’s feet rooted to the floor.

“Chan? I’m still trying to get the heat to turn on; can you get it please?”

“O-Okay, hyung!” Chan finally replies. He takes a deep breath before turning to look through the peephole, just to make sure.

Standing on the other side is someone in a big coat and a cap with a food truck picture on it. They’re also holding a carryout bag with what Chan can only assume is their dinner.

When Chan closes the door, arms laden with food, Soonyoung makes a noise of triumph.

“I got it back on!” he cries, jumping out from behind the table with his hands in the air. “And you got the food! Everything’s turning up Soonyoung!”

They settle at the table by the heater, just barely shivering. But the warm soup and the eventual heat from the radiator keeps the cold at bay.

“Hey, you’ve got—” Chan says before trailing off and reaching for the rice sticking to the side of Soonyoung’s mouth. Once he picks it off, Soonyoung turns his head and licks it off Chan’s thumb.

They make eye contact. Soonyoung parts his lips just slightly. Chan falls into his trap and slips his thumb into his mouth.

The first thing Chan registers is the heat. Next is the soft texture of Soonyoung’s tongue, then the weight of Soonyoung’s eyes on him. Chan’s breath catches in his throat when Soonyoung starts to suck; the pressure lights several fuses in his brain all at once. It doesn’t take long for heat to envelop him entirely.

Who needs a radiator when they’ve got each other?

Chan holds Soonyoung’s hooded gaze, unable to look away, slowly drawing closer and farther out of his seat. Soonyoung follows him, closing the distance between them until their knees touch.

Chan takes a deep breath before pressing his thumb against Soonyoung’s tongue. He gets a moan for his efforts and the sound is almost enough to choke a moan from his own throat.

Soonyoung releases Chan’s thumb and turns his head again to nuzzle his face into Chan’s open palm. It’s such a purely affectionate gesture that Chan forgets about the way his dick is trying to fight against the front of his pants.

“Sorry,” Soonyoung says, a warm smile on his face, “I just got hungry for dessert.”

The blood in Chan’s body can’t decide if it wants to go to his face or his dick.

“Holy shit,” Chan breathes.

Laughing, Soonyoung gets to his feet and takes Chan by the hand. He leads him to his bed and sits down before patting the space next to him.

Chan hesitates.

“Hyung,” Chan begins, already unsure of where he wants to go with this.

“Yes, my Channie?” Soonyoung replies immediately.

Chan can feel a solid blush in his cheeks now.

“Do you—”

Soonyoung looks up at him attentively.

“Do you like me?” Chan blurts out.

Fuck.

Soonyoung laughs, but again, not unkindly. He takes Chan’s hands and pulls him down to sit on the bed before laying their linked hands over Chan’s thighs.

“Yes, Channie, I like you,” Soonyoung confirms. “If you couldn’t tell by the way I sucked your thumb like I wanted it to be your dick.”

“Hyung,” Chan whines. He ducks his head low. “I mean—like—”

“Chan,” Soonyoung says, interrupting Chan—not that he had decided what he wanted to say in the first place. “Are you really asking me if I like you? Have you paid any attention to me all these years?”

“Well—I never thought—because you’re also so close to Seokmin-hyung, and you’re always trying to get Jeonghan-hyung’s attention, and—Seungkwan—”

His mouth suddenly becomes uncharted territory that his tongue can’t navigate, words tripping and falling out from his lips before slamming into the ground. His gaze is heavy, drawn low, weighed down by his uncertainties jumping to the surface.

Soonyoung hums, chewing on his words. “Well,” he says, “you’re not wrong about any of those things. And I do love Seokmin and Jeonghan and Seungkwan very much, it’s true.”

Chan takes a deep and shaky breath before finally chancing a look up at Soonyoung. When their eyes meet, Soonyoung squeezes Chan’s hands and smiles.

“But I love them all differently. I love you differently. It’s not right to compare any of you to each other, you know?” Soonyoung says, and his sincerity soothes Chan’s feverish, rapidly beating heart.

“Besides, this isn’t about them. This is about you and me, Chan,” Soonyoung continues, pulling on Chan now, bringing him closer. “I know what I want and I hope I’ve made that clear. But I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” He pauses. “Obviously.”

Chan can practically hear Seungkwan’s voice reading his text from earlier: “There’s no room for doubt here. At all.”

And he gets that, he does. But there’s a difference in knowing that his body sings under Soonyoung’s touch and knowing what to do about it. He could fuck Soonyoung and be satisfied (for the moment, at least), but could he wake up in the morning and greet their fans like normal? Could he wake up and greet his other hyungs like normal? Would they be an item? What would happen next?

Again, Chan takes a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut. He’s getting ahead of himself. If he wants to fuck Soonyoung, it seems to be in the realm of reality—but he can consider the ramifications for when it actually happens. For now, it doesn’t need to spiral quite so far.

“I—Can I—” Chan stammers, but Soonyoung holds him through it patiently. Chan draws himself upward and glances down at Soonyoung’s lips.

“I want to kiss you,” Chan declares, already starting to lean forward.

A grin lights up Soonyoung’s face. He leans in as well and catches Chan’s chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“You ever kiss anyone before?” Soonyoung asks cheekily.

Chan shakes his head, the corner of his lips rising in a smirk. “No, but I was hoping you’d teach me, Mr. Smooth Operator.”

Soonyoung laughs. “I mean, if that’s what you think I am, I’ll do my best to live up to the hype.”

Before Chan can sneak in another snarky reply, Soonyoung seals their lips together with a gentle press. Suddenly, Chan thinks about that time the group was watching a kissing scene from a drama on a music show and Soonyoung said the male lead was “detailed” while moving his lips and he starts starts laughing.

The hand under Chan’s chin moves to cup his jaw and holds him in place. As Soonyoung pulls away, more laughter escapes from Chan’s lips.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Soonyoung asks. The low tone of his voice scrapes over Chan’s skin, dimming the mirth dancing in his lungs, but then the image pops up in his head again and he chuckles.

“The—remember, on some music show, that drama clip we saw? With the lead couple kissing? And you just—” Chan explains, trailing off with a laugh.

Soonyoung snorts. “Is that what you want from me now? Because I can deliver,” he says, puckering his lips in an exaggerated manner.

Chan laughs and shakes his head. He mirrors Soonyoung’s expression and presses their mouths together again.

As if a switch had been flipped, Soonyoung immediately relaxes his lips to kiss Chan properly. He moves his hand to the base of Chan’s skull and holds him there, waiting for Chan to reciprocate. And he does.

They exchange kisses, knee to knee on Soonyoung’s bed. The kisses last longer and grow firmer as the minutes pass; Chan gets a chance to see how _detailed_ Soonyoung can be with his lips.

Soonyoung tugs Chan closer by the back of his neck and Chan crawls onto the bed. Soonyoung continues to pull until Chan is sitting in his lap, legs on either side of Soonyoung’s hips.

This close, Chan can feel Soonyoung’s dick against the back of his thigh. It is dangerously close to his ass; one part of his brain is telling him to grind his leg against the seam of Soonyoung’s thighs just to see his reaction and the other part is telling him to stay in his goddamn lane.

Fuck it. This entire night has been pushing limits, so why not? Chan hooks his leg around Soonyoung’s hips and uses his foot as leverage to help him grind down against Soonyoung’s growing erection.

With a gasp, Soonyoung’s body jerks. One of Soonyoung’s hands lands on Chan’s thigh and holds him in a vice grip.

Chan pulls away, his elbows balanced on Soonyoung’s shoulders. Their harsh breath mingles together, their mouths hardly an inch apart, as they stare each other down.

Soonyoung smirks. He grabs Chan’s hips and guides him into an upright position, shifting so that Chan’s legs support him on either side of Soonyoung’s hips. Then, he lowers his hands and squeezes Chan’s ass for dear life.

They both groan, clutching at each other. Holding Chan in place, Soonyoung rolls his hips up, grinding their erections together through their pants.

Sweat drips down the side of Chan’s face. He buries it in Soonyoung’s shoulder as helpless whimpers tumble from his lips.

Soonyoung is slowly, tortuously dragging Chan’s soul from his jeans. The rough friction vibrates through his nerves with every movement of Soonyoung’s hips against his; it scrambles his brain, feeding it pure heat, filling him with a craving only Soonyoung can satisfy.

“Squeeze your thighs for me, Chan,” Soonyoung murmurs against Chan’s ear.

Chan complies and presses Soonyoung’s legs together against the mattress. Moaning lowly, Soonyoung begins to rock his hips faster and faster.

Chan snaps an arm out to grab at the headboard. He can barely focus enough to keep their thighs pressed together as pleasure pumps through his veins.

Soonyoung shakes and groans and digs his fingers into Chan’s hips with enough force Chan can feel it in his bones. The sudden spark of pain and pleasure combined pushes Chan right to the edge, but what pushes him to climax is the way Soonyoung moans his name right into his ear.

“Chan,” Soonyoung calls. His fingers continue to drill into Chan’s hips as his body stutters through his orgasm, Soonyoung following soon after.

The steady descent from their peak is quiet, save for their heavy breaths. Soonyoung combs a hand through Chan’s hair and smooths his palm over the back of his neck. Eventually, Chan folds against Soonyoung’s chest, burying his face against Soonyoung’s sweat-slick neck.

Someone’s phone buzzes, but neither of them move. The rapid pace at which it vibrates threatens to send it off the nightstand by Soonyoung’s bed, so with a grumble, Soonyoung snatches it up.

“It’s yours,” Soonyoung mutters. He sounds exhausted again. “It’s Seungkwan. Looks like he’s mad about something.”

“When isn’t he?” Chan sighs. Before he gets up, he presses a kiss to Soonyoung’s neck, and then he takes his phone back.

“Probably wondering why I won’t let him in,” Soonyoung says around a yawn. “Maybe you should tell him to sleep in your room.”

“Bit suspicious, don’t you think?” Chan replies.

He’s dreading opening his messages, but it’s later than he realized and it wouldn’t be fair to keep Seungkwan waiting.

 

[Seungkwan]: soonyoung told me to fuck off so i guess y’all are fucking

[Seungkwan]: hey are you done yet

[Seungkwan]: seokmin-hyung went back to his room and you know i cant interrupt jeonghan-hyung’s beauty sleep

[Seungkwan]: chan

[Seungkwan]: dude

[Seungkwan]: you guys can’t have that good stamina come on answer me

[Seungkwan]: i swear to god i will call you with this hotel’s shitty wifi and reveal your shitty ringtone

[Chan]: firstly fuck you my ringtone is great

[Chan]: secondly you don’t know anything about my stamina

[Chan]: but i’ll go back to my room now. sorry for keeping you

[Seungkwan]: if i really wanted to, you know i totally had the power to bust the door open and walk in on you guys

[Seungkwan]: and by bust in i mean use my key card on my own room where my trusted group members are engaging in frisky behaviour without me

[Seungkwan]: i’m just kidding. you can stay if you want. you know i’ve seen your dick before

[Chan]: for god’s sake my dick is not out seungkwan

[Seungkwan]: that’s hyung to you!!!

[Seungkwan]: also disappointing. guess i’m not getting a show after all

 

“Why is he like this,” Chan sighs.

“So did you offer him your room?” Soonyoung asks. He snakes his arms around Chan’s waist and slowly pulls him into an embrace.

Leaning into Soonyoung’s warmth, Chan says, “No, no. I should probably go back. I need to change out of these pants.”

Soonyoung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah. Fuck, do you think the managers will ask questions if I tell them I want to do my own laundry?”

“To your face? No. But since they won’t ask, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re awfully confident about that.”

“You know my confidence is the main thing that keeps me going these days.”

Soonyoung barks out a laugh. He squeezes Chan around the middle before letting his arms go slack.

“Okay, kiddo,” he says, “get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early,” Chan replies with a sigh.

He slides forward and out of Soonyoung’s grip, but he finds himself lingering, hanging off the side of the bed.

“What’s up?” Soonyoung asks, placing a hand on Chan’s shoulder.

“Nothing,” Chan says. “Just…” He hesitates, unsure how to word his sentiments exactly. “It’s nice and warm here, that’s all.”

Soonyoung laughs and ducks down to plant a kiss to Chan’s cheek.

“My bed is always open to you, you know,” he says.

A breath rattles in Chan’s throat. “I know,” he replies eventually, “and I still need to think about that, I think.”

Soonyoung hums. He goes in for another kiss to Chan’s cheek, but this time Chan turns his head and meets him in the middle. It’s a sweet exchange of warmth that rouses butterflies in Chan’s stomach.

When he pulls away, Chan sighs. “I really gotta get out of these clothes now,” he grumbles.

It takes more effort than he thought to get to his feet. But at least Soonyoung doesn’t try to stop him.

He gets a few steps towards the door before he feels arms around his waist from behind. Soonyoung presses his cheek against the back of his neck and gives him a good squeeze.

“Goodnight, my Channie,” he murmurs against Chan’s skin.

Chan takes Soonyoung’s hands and gives them a squeeze. “Goodnight, Soonyoungie-hyung,” he says in reply.

When Chan steps out into the hall, he hears the shower go on. God, he wishes he were in a shower right now. He quickly finds the elevator and thanks his luck that he doesn’t bump into Seungkwan on the way back.

 

* * *

 

The infuriating thing about all this is that no one wants to talk to him about it. But then again, no one _needs_ to talk to him about it.

The fansign the next day goes well. Seungkwan plays MC, as usual, and the group follows his cues, as usual. Soonyoung and Chan play with each other as usual, but they don't seem to pay each other any special sort of attention.

As Seungkwan passes his mic over to Mingyu for a hip hop team segment, Seokmin approaches his seat and grabs his wrist.

“You doing okay?” he asks, ducking his head to meet Seungkwan’s eye.

Seungkwan sighs and moves to lace their fingers together. The physical contact comforts him, grounds him; this whole Soonyoung-Chan thing isn’t his whole life, after all.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan replies, “just a little tired. Couldn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Nervous about today?” Seokmin asks.

“Among other things,” Seungkwan admits. He looks over at the stage where Mingyu and Wonwoo are play fighting. It’s cute and he smiles to himself.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe later.”

As if on cue, Minghao bounds over to them with mics. They’re summoned to perform again and the thought dissipates from Seungkwan’s head, bodiless like smoke but acrid all the same.

After the fansign, the group goes out to dinner together. Seungkwan sits with Jeonghan and Seokmin, flanked by his worried mothers, and makes sure to put some distance between himself and Soonyoung and Chan.

He just doesn’t trust himself not to give himself away.

Seungcheol orders a round of sake because of course he does. It’s very similar to soju, so Seungkwan has no trouble downing it.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” Jeonghan says, catching Seungkwan’s wrist.

“You’re not my mom,” Seungkwan snaps back immediately.

“No, I could never stand in for such an incredible woman,” Jeonghan replies. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Sighing, Seungkwan puts down his cup. “I know,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Seokmin told me you looked preoccupied today so I just wanted to check up on you,” Jeonghan explains.

Luckily, it’s loud enough in the restaurant for them to separate their conversation from the group. They’ve already split up into groups as they tend to do; it’s just too hard to yell across the table. But they always catch up with each other later.

Seungkwan thinks this can wait for a more private setting, but there’s alcohol here and he’s feeling a little needy.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “My brain has been fucking with me lately thanks to hormones and someone’s shamelessness.”

“Oh? Do I need to talk to someone?”

Laughing, Seungkwan shakes his head. “No, no,” he replies, “I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s not like you to avoid, Seungkwannie,” Seokmin chimes in, leaning over Seungkwan’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want us to say anything?”

Seungkwan snorts. “That’s rich coming from you, hyung,” he mutters.

Seokmin laughs sheepishly.

“No, it’s just—” Seungkwan takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about someone in a new light.”

No response. Seungkwan goes for the sake and no one stops him this time.

“Is it someone—sitting here right now?” Jeonghan asks hesitantly.

Seungkwan nods wordlessly.

“Is it Hansol?” Seokmin asks.

“It’s not always Hansol,” Seungkwan mutters from behind his cup.

Seungcheol leans over with the pitcher.

“Refill?” he asks Seungkwan.

Seungkwan holds out his cup without saying anything.

As Seungcheol retreats to his seat, Jeonghan eyes him.

“That man is a bad influence,” Jeonghan complains. “Anyway,” he says, turning to Seungkwan, “then it’s gotta be Soonyoung, right?”

Is he that transparent? Seungkwan sips on his sake.

“Maybe,” he replies. “But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m not sure what to do, and I think I’m a little afraid to think about the next step.”

“Any particular reason why?” Seokmin asks.

Seungkwan hums before taking a few more sips.

“It could change things,” is all he can think to say. “I don’t want it to affect the group.”

Both Seokmin and Jeonghan nod their understanding.

“If it’s that heavy, though, it would probably be best to do something about it sooner than later,” Jeonghan says. “Don’t you think?”

Seungkwan sighs. “I know, I know,” he mutters in response. “Thus the urge to drink.”

“Don’t do something I wouldn’t do, Seungkwan-ah,” Seokmin advises him with a hand to his shoulder.

It brings a smile to Seungkwan's face. “I won’t,” he promises. “I just need a little courage.”

Jeonghan claps a hand to Seungkwan’s other shoulder.

“Whatever happens, we’re cheering you on,” Jeonghan says. “You guys can work it out, I’m sure.”

The sake and Jeonghan’s vote of confidence both help. When Seungkwan returns to his shared hotel room, he feels ready to take on the world.

“Hyung!” he calls out. “We need to talk!”

Soonyoung walks out of the bathroom with loose sweatpants slung over his slim hips and his hair soaking wet.

“What is it?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”

A weight drops in Seungkwan’s stomach. This is way too reminiscent of his wet dream; at least Soonyoung is wearing clothes this time. His luck worked out in his favour in that regard, at least.

“I—well, nothing’s wrong, per se,” Seungkwan starts. It’s really not a strong start.

Soonyoung flips his hair out of his face, not even bothering to comb it. Slob. Water drips down his face, still flushed from his recent shower, and frames his eyes and lips in a way that makes it hard to concentrate.

“So then what is it?” Soonyoung asks.

“I just—I have a bone to pick with you, in particular, about your recent behaviour—” Seungkwan begins, but he cuts himself off when Soonyoung walks over to his bed, chuckling to himself.

“Alright, let me get comfortable before you lay it on me,” he says. He grabs a pillow and starts fluffing it.

“Hyung, I’m being serious right now,” Seungkwan huffs.

“Yeah, I know! So am I!” Soonyoung fires back. He sets the pillow down and leans his back onto it. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Seungkwan takes a few steps closer. His bed is right across from Soonyoung’s, but he’s too antsy to even think about sitting right now.

“So, like—I know my ass is amazing, but don’t you think you touch it a little too often?” Seungkwan asks. He almost flinches when he stops talking, but he needs to keep his poker face if he wants to be taken seriously at all.

Soonyoung nods slightly. “Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself then. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan furrows his brow. That’s not the direction this is supposed to go.

“No, that’s—I appreciate that, hyung, but that’s not what I meant,” Seungkwan replies.

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, mirroring Seungkwan’s expression. “Then what do you mean? Do you—want me to touch it more?”

A flush fills out Seungkwan’s cheeks within seconds.

“N-No—” he stutters. “I mean—like—why do you—do it so much?”

Now Soonyoung looks beyond confused.

“Well, you said it yourself,” he replies, “you have a great ass. It’s so round I can’t not touch it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, then I won’t, obviously.”

Seungkwan lifts his eyebrows. “So that’s it then?” he asks. “You grab it and pinch it and slap it because it’s _round?”_

A sheepish smile curls Soonyoung’s lips. He rubs the back of his neck and says, “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds simple, doesn’t it? But I dunno, Seungkwannie; I just like it.”

Seungkwan sighs. “It’s just an ass,” he says flatly.

Soonyoung shrugs. “Again, like you said, it’s a great ass.”

“So then—” Seungkwan takes a steadying breath. “What about—everything else?”

Again, Soonyoung looks confused.

“Seungkwan-ah, why are you beating around the bush? Is there something you want?” Soonyoung asks, sitting up straighter. He looks like he’s about to stand up and do—something, Seungkwan isn’t sure.

Instinctively, Seungkwan takes a step back. He wrings his hands together by his waist and looks at the ground.

“No, hyung—”

“Seungkwan-ah, look at me.”

Seungkwan freezes. His breath stutters in his throat before coming out from between his teeth in a low hiss.

Seungkwan looks up. Soonyoung is standing before him now, hands by his sides but poised to make contact if need be.

“This isn’t like you. Besides, if there’s something bothering you, I’d like to know so we can figure out what to do next.”

Soonyoung’s calm tone is starting to piss off Seungkwan. He hates that he doesn’t have the upper hand right now, especially when dealing with Soonyoung. He usually isn’t the one without control.

“I think the question is—is there something you want from me?” Seungkwan asks hotly. “Because you can’t just be touching me like that all the time because it’s _fun.”_

Soonyoung’s brow dips again. He exhales a big puff of breath and averts his gaze.

“Well,” he says, lifting his eyes to look at Seungkwan through his lashes, “I don’t see why not, but I get your point.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Seungkwan snaps.

Soonyoung grins and takes a step closer.

“Look at you like what?” he asks. Then, he stops and straightens up. “Sorry, is my shirtlessness distracting you? I just got so caught up in the conversation, I forgot to finish getting dressed.”

Without breaking eye contact, he walks over to his closet.

“That’s—” Seungkwan groans, stomping his foot. “What the hell? You really think you’re all that, do you?”

Soonyoung grins and leans back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I don’t know, Seungkwan. I didn’t know my touching would get you so hot and bothered that you’d have to sit me down about it. But here we are.”

“That has nothing to do with this. You’re just vain,” Seungkwan snaps.

“Well.” Soonyoung sniffs and pulls out a shirt. “Guess me and my vanity ought to leave you alone so you don’t have to deal with our bullshit.”

“You’re so full of crap,” Seungkwan sighs.

“Yeah, but you love me,” Soonyoung says, looking over to make eye contact. He’s still not wearing a shirt. “And I love you, and that’s why we get along so well.”

“I hate when you’re right,” Seungkwan grumbles.

“You’re lucky it doesn’t happen often.”

That gets a laugh out of Seungkwan. With a huff of breath, he collapses onto his bed, limbs splayed and eyes closed.

A couple of minutes pass. Seungkwan hears Soonyoung return to bed, sheets rustling. But when he opens his eyes again, he sees Soonyoung staring at him from across the room.

“Seriously, though,” Soonyoung starts softly, “if it makes you uncomfortable—”

“Hyung,” Seungkwan interrupts him, “if that were the case, you know I’d have no issue telling you.”

A grin pulls at Soonyoung’s face. “Why are you being so tsundere? Why can’t you be as nice to me as you are to Hansol?”

“God, shut up,” Seungkwan groans. “I don’t treat him any differently than I do anyone else.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m not _tsundere._ I’m just—I’m still working through it.”

Soonyoung nods. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Seungkwan narrows his eyes at his roommate. “If we’re asking questions, why the hell are you so chill about all this?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You _do_ understand the implications of everything I said today, right?”

“I do.”

“So?!”

Soonyoung shrugs. “It’s not a bad thing, far from it. I’m happy about it. And since you still seem to be unsure about it, I’m trying to give you space.”

Seungkwan flops onto his back and sighs loudly.

“You’re just making it worse.”

“How?!”

“You know,” Seungkwan starts, cheeks heating up, “I had a wet dream about you.”

“You what?!”

Seungkwan hears Soonyoung sit up. Slowly, Seungkwan turns to look at him. It’s hard to gauge him in the low light, his features lit only by lamps scattered throughout the room.

At least Soonyoung has the decency to blush.

Seungkwan lies back and looks up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he says, “that’s what started this whole thing. When you came out wearing stark fucking nothing thanks to a goddamn spider the other night, my brain decided to run with it.”

“So you’re saying you saw my dick and then you had a wet dream about it?”

“Chan said the same thing,” Seungkwan sighs. “Why are you two like this?”

“You told Chan about your wet dream?” Soonyoung asks.

Seungkwan turns to look at Soonyoung again. He looks young in the dim light, blankets tossed over his bottom half, his oversized shirt stretched so that his collarbones are visible. His eyes are attentive as they stare at Seungkwan questioningly, expectantly.

“Yes,” Seungkwan replies slowly. “He’s—we are friends, you know.”

Soonyoung’s eyes seem to drill holes into him, but they don’t delve so far as to cause discomfort. He does seem to have questions; Seungkwan can tell by the way he chews the inside of his cheek. But he stays quiet and turns to look up at the ceiling.

“Right,” Soonyoung says absently. He holds his phone up over his head. “You wanna see if the gym is still open? Shua-hyung wants to go play squash.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. How Soonyoung manages to act like nothing happened, Seungkwan doesn’t know.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

For their last concert dates, the group moves hotels again. Soonyoung picks Hansol as his roommate to “counter his quick temper”; Seungkwan decides to pick Chan as his roommate this time.

Chan finds it easy to get in sync with Seungkwan, sharing a room like this. Seungkwan is pretty organized considering they're currently living in a hotel room, which works well for Chan since he gets flustered easily if mess starts to pile up.

Naturally, Chan integrates Seungkwan into his schedule while they're sharing such a close space. It's second nature to extend invites to his members to do pretty much anything: eat, walk, shop, etc. In Seventeen, you get used to being in someone else's company almost all the time.

At first, Seungkwan seemed a little distant, but Chan chalked it up to the stress from adjusting to a new hotel room. Seungkwan has hawk eyes, but Chan doesn’t mind being on the other end of that sharp stare.

He’s not exactly sure what it says about him, his level of okayness with feeling like someone’s next meal. But there’s no time to think about it.

They’ve just come back from dance practice when Seungkwan starts pushing back furniture in their room.

“Chan-ah,” he calls, “I want to go over choreo—you know, that bit we’re doing with Soonyoung-hyung, Seokmin-hyung, and Myungo-hyung?”

“Ah, yeah,” Chan answers. He jogs over to help Seungkwan clear up space. “Of course.”

It’s a little comedy thing they’re doing as a treat for their Japanese fans especially. They all contributed to the choreography, but, as usual, it’s Soonyoung’s baby. And, as usual, Chan had been there through every level of development.

Being the one walking someone else through the choreography is always a fun role reversal. It happens pretty often since several other members frequently need help learning moves, but it’s different in the confines of their hotel room, the music coming low from the bluetooth speaker Seungkwan snagged from Seokmin.

They’re standing in front of some ornamental mirror when Seungkwan’s eye meets Chan’s in their reflection. He holds Seungkwan’s stare for a while, held in place by the force of Seungkwan’s gravity.

“Hyung,” Chan says after a moment, “like this.”

He corrects Seungkwan’s posture in the mirror, but his fingers linger, brushing carefully over Seungkwan’s clothes, reverently following the lines of his body. Seungkwan is pliant under his touch, so malleable Chan forgets where he ends and where Seungkwan begins.

They walk through the routine best they can without the other members. Chan has always known Seungkwan’s body to a certain degree, just as he’s familiar with the rest of the group to the point of being able to identify their footsteps, but as they walk through the steps alone together in their shared space, he starts to learn Seungkwan’s body in a new way.

Sweat crawls down his neck after three rounds of practice. Seungkwan’s chest heaves with his laboured breath; it wraps around Chan’s head, the rhythm a hypnotizing, perfectly, humanly measured sound that creeps onto the edge of Chan’s consciousness from all sides.

“You’re so handsy,” Seungkwan says after a while, once he’s caught his breath and loosened his grip around Chan’s heart. “Learn that from a certain someone?”

Chan scoffs. “I do exist outside of Soonyoung, you know,” he retorts.

Seungkwan holds his gaze. There’s a scrutinizing quality about it, his eyes seeming to peel away layers of Chan’s skin to search underneath. There’s a challenge there, but it only lurks beneath the surface, something like bait for Chan to fall for, a trap waiting to snap around his ankles.

“Sorry,” Seungkwan says. He lowers his eyes, and while Chan thought he’d feel relief, he finds himself wanting, missing the attention.

“I seem to be thinking of you two together a lot lately,” he adds, cracking a slight grin. There’s hardly any mirth there—which doesn’t sit well in Chan’s stomach. “I should probably mind my own business.”

“No,” Chan replies, and maybe he speaks too soon because Seungkwan’s head rises to look at him with those sharp eyes again. Chan’s voice falters and falls back into his chest for a second, momentarily stunned by Seungkwan’s gaze.

“I mean,” Chan continues, “I think—you might be right to be concerned about that. But—” He pauses to take a quick breath. “You don’t need to worry about it right now.”

Chan would like to give Seungkwan something better to worry about—he does exist outside of Soonyoung, and he so badly wants to prove that, it almost makes him dizzy.

He takes a couple steps towards Seungkwan, but he doesn’t quite close the gap between their bodies.

“If I’m handsy,” Chan starts, “you sure didn’t complain about it while we were practising.”

Seungkwan’s cheek flush just slightly. His eyes fall to Chan’s hands.

“You were teaching me,” Seungkwan replies. “I understand that requires some level of physical guidance.”

Chan snorts. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, then?”

“When am I not?” Seungkwan retorts, but the colour in his face darkens. His eyes seem to falter, so Chan takes another step closer.

“Doesn’t seem fair, considering I was just trying to help,” Chan says. He reaches out a hand to touch Seungkwan’s hip. “If it’s a fight you want, I can certainly deliver, hyung.”

Seungkwan’s eyes fall to their point of contact. Then, a real smile splits his lips, and he reaches down to take Chan’s hand into his.

“No, no,” Seungkwan replies, “you know I always play nice. No need to throw punches.”

Chan rolls his eyes. Seungkwan’s smile grows as he takes his turn to come closer, stepping into the box of Chan’s shoulders. Holding his hand like this, Seungkwan seems poised to launch them into another dance routine, but of a much different nature.

“That was the last thing I was thinking of,” Chan mutters. He knows within this proximity that Seungkwan can hear him just fine.

“Care to tell me what you were thinking of, then?”

Chan raises his eyebrows. “You mean to tell me you can’t read my mind after all?”

“I never claimed such a thing,” Seungkwan says, grinning with all his teeth. It’s a gleaming steel trap and Chan finds himself drawing nearer regardless. “I hang on your every word, you know.”

“Now you really must want something,” Chan says lowly. “You trying to butter me up?”

“Maybe.” Seungkwan’s grin dims to something softer. “Is it working?”

Some part of Chan recognizes the softness is a ruse to get him to fall into Seungkwan’s trap and let Seungkwan snap his jaw around him. But he never claimed to be a smart man.

“Maybe,” Chan murmurs.

Seungkwan’s free hand drifts up the front of Chan’s chest. Now he’s the one being handsy—but maybe it’s only fair.

A shiver rolls through Chan’s bones, but it’s not the winter winds blowing outside their window that causes it. He steps closer to Seungkwan like it is the cold and Seungkwan lets him in with ease, accommodates him with open arms until their shoulders and hips are aligned perfectly.

Seungkwan rests his palm against the back of Chan’s neck. His eyelashes brush his cheekbones as he looks down at Chan; Chan finds himself lost trying to wrap his mind around the depth of Seungkwan’s beauty up close.

“You’re warm,” Seungkwan tells him. “Did I do this to you?”

“Yeah, several rounds of cardio will do the trick,” Chan replies cheekily.

Seungkwan swats at the back of Chan’s neck. Chan laughs and leans his head forward to rest on Seungkwan’s shoulder.

“Did I tire out the baby?” Seungkwan coos into Chan’s ear.

Chan hums. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “You did make me work.”

“That’s not even the start of it, Channie.”

“Sounds like you’re up to no good, hyung.”

“Don’t say that. I only want to give you my best at all times.”

Chan snorts and lifts his head from Seungkwan’s shoulder. He looks up at Seungkwan, admiring the way the shadows fall across his face, the sheen of the sweat on his brow, the curve of his smiling eyes.

“You’ll have to show me some time, then, hyung,” Chan says, “just what you have planned for us.”

Seungkwan grins. “Maybe. If you can prove to me that you deserve it.”

A laugh breezes through Chan’s chest. “If you want me to kiss you, hyung, you can just ask,” he says, his voice dripping with honey and smugness.

Seungkwan’s face flashes through several emotions in the span of about a second, so before Seungkwan can say something that might ruin the mood, Chan leans in and presses their lips together.

At first, Seungkwan freezes. His fingers curl against the back of Chan’s neck and his grip goes slack in Chan’s hand.

But when Chan starts to pull away, worry beginning to bite at the edges of his mind, Seungkwan chases after him and kisses him in earnest. He throws his other arm over Chan’s shoulder and pulls him in close; his enthusiasm fills Chan with warmth all the way down to his toes.

Chan grasps at Seungkwan’s waist and digs his thumbs into Seungkwan’s hips. The pressure elicits a whine from the depths of Seungkwan’s chest; it immediately goes to Chan’s cock.

With a sharp inhale of breath, Seungkwan pulls away. It’s his turn to press his face into Chan’s shoulder. He doesn’t protest as Chan slowly walks them to the nearest bed, but he remains tightly wrapped around him.

When Seungkwan rights his weight on the bed, he pulls his arms back so that his elbows are balanced on Chan’s shoulders.

“You’re brave today,” Seungkwan tells him.

Chan laughs and Seungkwan grins with him.

“Let’s say I’m on a courageous streak,” Chan replies. He continues to massage Seungkwan’s hips, earning him a low hum.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” Seungkwan murmurs. He leans in and plants a sweet kiss on Chan’s lips. “But I’m not sure _how_ much I like you, Channie.”

Chan nods his understanding. He thinks about Soonyoung, someone he can’t seem to extricate from himself, and how he still hasn’t decided “how much” he likes Soonyoung.

“Enough to be planning something for me in the future,” Chan says.

A wry smile warps Seungkwan’s mouth. “Perhaps,” he replies. “And perhaps that was a bluff.”

“So you wanted to kiss me so bad you were willing to lie?”

Seungkwan makes a sound between a sigh and a laugh. “Maybe,” he admits.

Chan shrugs. “It was vague enough to work. As a lot of things tend to.”

“You’re a smart man, Lee Chan.”

“Learned from the best.”

Seungkwan grins at him and begins to play with his hair. At some point, the two of them end up on their backs, legs tangled. Chan feels several urges to kiss his hyung and he acts on all of them; to move so freely fills him with joy, to put it shortly.

When they start to doze off, Chan ends up being the one startled awake by the foreignness of their closeness. It’s not unusual to cuddle, no, but not with their thighs so close, not with their hands seeking each other’s hips. This shade of intimacy is definitely brand new to them.

“Seungkwan…” Chan murmurs to himself. He reaches up to brush some hair out of Seungkwan’s eyes.

“Hyung,” he says a little louder this time.

Seungkwan’s eyes flutter open. They look so big this close, looking up at him sleepily, so cute in this state of drowsiness.

“Mm?” Seungkwan replies.

Chan is helpless to the fond smile that comes to his face.

“Hyung,” he begins, “do you think—that you like me enough to stay with me here tonight?”

A quiet laugh shakes Seungkwan’s belly. He slides his hands around Chan’s waist, giving his ass a pat before securing them at the small of his back.

“Yes, Channie,” Seungkwan says. “I think I can do that.”

He presses one last kiss to Chan’s mouth before burying his face in Chan’s shoulder. It’s enough to seal the deal; Chan falls asleep listening to Seungkwan’s breathing.

 

* * *

 

Seungkwan and Chan decide to dedicate a morning to cleaning up the room. Of all the members, the two of them are not the worst offenders when it comes to mess, but they’re not exactly the most mindful of their space. It’s easier to manage when there’s only two of them; besides, it’s nice to think of something besides work.

“Chan-ah,” Seungkwan calls as he folds some clothes, “I’ve decided that we need to limit the number of bathroom incidents for the sake of my sanity.”

Chan barks a laugh, throwing back his head. “You saying I’m a threat to your health?” he asks.

“Yes. If I see another unsolicited dick I’m gonna lose my fucking marbles.”

“So only when you ask?” Chan retorts. “If you ask nice enough, I think I’d be willing to share.”

Seungkwan groans and throws his arms into the air.

“Who taught you how to talk like this? Soonyoung?” he asks. “Can you absorb someone's personality through their dick?”

“Hey, I don't think I like the implication there. I can be this horrible by myself, don't you know.”

Seungkwan whips a pair of socks at Chan's head and beans him right on the ear, earning him an explosive yelp.

“Honestly, I’m flattered you think I could have that kind of effect on you, hyung,” Chan comments, his head bowed as he continues unpacking. There's a small smile on his face that doesn't quite match up with his smug words, and Seungkwan feels off-kilter observing him. The weight of his expression, the subtle curve of his lips, tugs at Seungkwan's chest, pulling his gravity low.

“Don't let it go to your head,” Seungkwan mutters. “God knows it's big enough already.”

Chan looks up and Seungkwan holds his gaze steadily. Surprise rounds Chan's eyes, adorably big in the low lights; it's as if Seungkwan was telling him that he was in love, or that he had a wet dream about one of his fellow group mates.

Embarrassment simmers low in Seungkwan's stomach, but he maintains his gaze until Chan looks away, his face twitching with a suppressed smile.

“I count my blessings every night. I’ll be sure to count this as one of them,” Chan says. Seungkwan can hear the smile in his voice.

How is he so cute without even trying? Seungkwan feels the urge to throw more socks at him.

They settle to bed without much fuss. Seungkwan feels himself on the edge of sleep when he hears Chan get up and answer the door.

It's Soonyoung. Seungkwan can't quite hear what they're saying, and then the door closes.

Some time passes, Seungkwan can't be sure how much. He's sure he slept at some point, but his brain seems to be waiting for _something_ to happen, on alert for Chan’s return.

“Hyung,” Chan whimpers just as the door opens. Soonyoung hushes him, giggling, and footsteps clatter throughout the room.

“We need to be quiet, baby,” Soonyoung replies.

They progress into the room and the door clicks shut behind them. There's the rustle of fabric and Chan's heavy breathing, interspersed with Soonyoung's voice murmuring and moaning.

Seungkwan finds himself holding his breath, trying to listen. What are they doing? Why are they doing this while he's in the room?

Well, obviously they're fucking. Obviously. The thought boils Seungkwan's blood—and sends it straight south.

Fuck.

Chan makes an especially loud noise, interrupted by a slap of skin. The sudden, sharp noise causes Seungkwan to jerk in surprise—which is followed by the two of them giggling.

Slowly, Seungkwan rolls over to face them. They're both in various states of undress, Soonyoung with his shirt off and pants unbuttoned and Chan just in his boxers. Soonyoung gives a little wave, wearing a shit-eating grin.

“I knew you’d be awake,” Soonyoung says.

 _Well, you weren't trying hard enough to be quiet,_ Seungkwan thinks. _Obviously I’d wake up._

“Huh?” is what he says out loud.

Chan has the decency to have some shame, his eyes cast aside bashfully, but it doesn't take long for him to catch Soonyoung's contagious smile. His fingers glide over the back of Soonyoung's neck before settling by the sheets.

“We were kinda hoping that, um, you’d join us, hyung,” Chan tells him, his words round and soft and cute coming out from between his curved lips.

_What?_

“What?” Seungkwan croaks. Slowly, he lifts himself onto his elbows and the sheets fall from around his shoulders to pool around his thighs.

Both Chan's and Soonyoung's eyes drop at the same time.

A shiver runs down Seungkwan's spine under all the attention. With his face puffy with sleep, he doesn't feel like much to look at, but he can feel their eyes eating him up. He sits up a little straighter and spreads his legs a couple inches.

Chan hums and climbs over Soonyoung to stand at Seungkwan's bedside. He brushes aside the blankets and Seungkwan realizes two things: the first is that he's naked and the second is that his cock is hard and standing at attention.

“Definitely awake,” Chan murmurs, sliding a hand over Seungkwan's hip. His thumb runs over the ridge of Seungkwan's pelvis before climbing higher. It brushes over Seungkwan's nipple before finally landing at his chin.

As Chan lifts Seungkwan's head, their eyes meet. The heat in Chan's eyes makes Seungkwan's cock twitch against his stomach.

Seungkwan wakes up just before Chan's lips touch his.

God, his brain hates him _so_ fucking much.

When he turns his head to check for Chan, he sees his dongsaeng sleeping soundly next to him. He holds back a groan that verges on the edge of a moan. God, he really needs to take care of this, like right fucking now.

He hides away in the bathroom and comes thinking about Chan’s hand on his dick and his lips against his own.

 

* * *

 

As they're practicing for their last concert, Soonyoung notices something off about Seungkwan. Lately, he’s been trying not to treat him differently; it's already stressing enough to be working overseas and he knows that Seungkwan's head hasn't been playing very nice with him since this all started in the first place.

But every time their eyes meet in the mirror, Seungkwan looks away. He keeps his head down during group huddles and stays quiet. Soonyoung knows he's a nervous talker, so something must be seriously wrong.

Soonyoung shakes sweat from his hair and wipes his palms on his shorts, casting a sideways glance at Seungkwan. He’s with vocal team and they’re starting to get heated about something, like usual. Probably food. Hopefully just food. But Seungkwan’s voice isn’t as present as usual, isn’t as boisterous.

Chan approaches Soonyoung with a water bottle. Soonyoung accepts it with a nod of thanks and downs half of it within seconds.

“Chan-ah,” Soonyoung starts, glancing over at Seungkwan again, “tell me: is Seungkwan doing alright?”

Immediately, Chan frowns. But it doesn’t last long, and he smooths over his expression with the ease of practice.

“I can’t say for sure,” Chan replies. “We’ve all been busy with filming and practice. We haven’t exactly had time to talk.”

Soonyoung turns and catches Chan’s eye, a frown of his own furrowing his brow.

“This isn’t just me, right?” he asks Chan. “Like, you can tell he’s preoccupied, right?”

From the other side of the room, vocal team bursts into loud laughter, including Seungkwan. The sound eases Soonyoung’s heart a little, but he can’t help the seed of worry that’s been growing in his chest, sprouting leaves in his ribs.

Chan touches Soonyoung’s hand. Soonyoung laces their fingers together and swings their joined hands for a moment before letting the connection drop.

“It’s not just you,” Chan says with a sigh. He looks at Soonyoung dead in the eye. “I can talk to him, if you want.”

Soonyoung hums. He remembers what Seungkwan said when he told him about the wet dream—he remembers that he told Chan, too. In fact, he told Chan first.

“I dunno,” Soonyoung mumbles. “I mean—that might be easier than a direct approach, but I don’t know if there’s time for beating around the bush. I think we should get this out of the way before the next show—it might throw off our rhythm.”

Chan nods his understanding. “You’re right,” he agrees. “I can be a buffer if you want, though—if anything, I can at least be nearby in case you need me.”

Soonyoung looks at Chan. He studies him for a bit. He takes in Chan’s glasses, sliding low on his nose thanks to sweat; he takes in Chan’s cap, keeping his hair out of his face and letting his features stand strong on their own; he takes in his closed stance, arms crossed over his chest, worry creasing the lines on his face.

“You’re worried about him,” Soonyoung says.

“Of course I am,” Chan replies immediately. After, he seems to catch himself, his eyes a bit round with surprise. “I mean—well, I think he’s avoiding me a little, too.”

“How long?”

“Just today,” Chan says. “He hardly said a word to me since we got up this morning.”

Soonyoung snorts. “Maybe he’s been having more dreams,” he muses.

Chan shoots him a sideways glance. “Dreams?” he asks.

Soonyoung lifts his chin and looks down at Chan. “Yeah, dreams,” he says. “Of a certain nature—a raunchy nature, if you will.”

Again, Chan’s expression spells out his surprise in clear letters—maybe Soonyoung just pays a little too much attention to him. Still, it’s interesting, watching Chan’s face tense then forcibly relax, those too-familiar features painting perfect pictures for Soonyoung to analyze.

“He told you about that?” Chan asks.

Soonyoung nods. “We had—a talk,” he replies.

Now it’s Chan’s turn to look over at Seungkwan. They happen to look over at the same time: Seungkwan holds Chan’s gaze for all of five seconds before he averts his eyes.

“And how did that go?” Chan asks.

Soonyoung is surprised Chan isn't on guard; Seungkwan's dream and related feelings along with Soonyoung's undefined but certainly sexual relationship with Chan should reasonably complicate things.

Instead, Chan is leaning in close, curious but keen on keeping things under wraps, his concern for Seungkwan tangible in this proximity. Soonyoung would be a little hurt if it weren't for the honest truth that he loves Seungkwan just as much as he values his little arrangement with Chan.

All Soonyoung can do is shrug. “He’s thinking about it,” he says. He picks his next words very carefully: “Using concrete words or terms right now is… not exactly ideal.” He looks over at Chan. “I think you understand.”

Holding Soonyoung’s gaze, Chan nods slowly. He chews on his bottom lip for a second, which is a little distracting and endearing at the same time. Soonyoung’s brain releases a tiny distress signal at it all.

“We should talk to him later,” Chan decides, looking up at Soonyoung. He touches Soonyoung’s wrist lightly. “We can get food or something.”

Sighing, Soonyoung replies, “Yeah, but it’s probably not a good idea to go too far out tonight since the concert is so soon.”

Chan shrugs. “We can get delivery,” he says, and Soonyoung nods with a smile.

Practice takes up most of the day. They get meals delivered to the practice room, and by the time they call it quits, the boys are all sprawled out on the floor, barely alive.

Although Soonyoung managed to stay on-task during practice, as is his responsibility as performance leader, his brain immediately fills up with thoughts of Seungkwan as soon as it’s free.

His chest is heaving as he stares up at the beams in the ceiling. They criss cross at precisely calculated angles; even one misplaced screw would threaten its structural integrity. Soonyoung thinks it’s similar to their group’s chemistry: one misplaced comment, one outstanding, nagging thought could jeopardize the whole thing.

However, like the ceiling, it would still take a sizeable force to completely destroy them, even with a peg loose. They just need to work hard to keep things in check.

Soonyoung grabs a water bottle and seeks out Seungkwan. He’s hunched over on a bench, eyes glued to his phone. His eyes flicker upwards as Soonyoung approaches, but he doesn't look up.

“Seungkwan-ah,” Soonyoung calls, “what's up?”

Seungkwan hums. “Just checking Naver,” he replies. “Checking social media, checking out the charts. _Thanks_ is still doing pretty well considering our promotions were so short.”

“Good to hear,” Soonyoung says. He holds out the water bottle in front of Seungkwan's face. “You should rehydrate so that your eyes don't get tired out looking at your phone.”

Seungkwan scoffs, but he takes the water bottle. He sets his phone aside and looks up at Soonyoung as he twists the cap off.

“Is there something you want?” he asks casually.

A crooked smile pulls at Soonyoung's lips. “Am I that transparent?” he asks.

“Not exactly,” Seungkwan says, mirroring Soonyoung's expression, “but I figured this was coming sooner or later.”

“Better sooner than later,” Soonyoung says. He cocks an eyebrow. “Did you have enough time to think about it?”

Focusing his eyes on his water bottle, Seungkwan shakes his head and shrugs. “I dunno; is there such thing as enough time when it comes to this sort of thing?”

“You can't be in limbo forever, Seungkwan.”

“Well, not with that attitude.”

Soonyoung snorts. “Your determination to do nothing is commendable, Seungkwan.”

“I certainly try my best.” Seungkwan takes a long pull from the water bottle and sighs. “You wanna come to my room, then?” he asks, looking up. “Chan can be there and it’ll really be a party.”

Soonyoung raises an eyebrow, but nods anyway. “Sure,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d want an audience for this.”

Looking down, Seungkwan shakes his head just slightly. “He’s not an audience. He’s as involved in this as I am,” he says, pausing to fiddle with the plastic label on the water bottle. “At least, that’s my hunch. And I happen to think it’s a very good hunch.”

Seungkwan never fails to impress Soonyoung in so many ways, with his insight, with his intelligence, with that constantly working brain of his. And maybe that’s what brought them here; Soonyoung has always been greedy, fighting tooth and nail for what he wants, and maybe he’d been fighting for this—for Seungkwan, and for Chan—in his own way.

Maybe it’s working out—but not without help. Not without Seungkwan and Chan themselves getting into the fray somehow. Soonyoung’s just glad they all ended up with the same goal.

“Let’s do it, then,” Soonyoung says. He smiles a little. “I’m glad you’re being chill about it this time.”

Seungkwan shrugs. “Well, maybe I did end up having enough time to think about it,” he replies. His eyes drift around the expanse of the practice room. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea to make a scene in front of everybody.”

“Point taken.” Soonyoung catches Seungkwan’s gaze. “So, what are you feeling tonight? Ramen?”

Seungkwan gets to his feet, shaking his head. “I don’t care. But when we get home, we need to go for barbecue or something.”

Soonyoung grins and says, “Oh, it’s a date.”

 

* * *

 

Chan ends up back at the hotel room first. He needs a shower, badly—practice today was brutal. Plus, if things go well, he might… No, that's going a little too far ahead.

When he enters the bathroom, he hears Seungkwan come in. For a while, he just stands in front of the mirror and listens. The low buzz of the radiator and the soft pad Seungkwan's socked feet on the other side of the door vibrate through his skull, bouncing along the lines of anticipation that make up his nerves.

Chan looks up at his reflection. His eyes are dark with exhaustion and his skin is pallid thanks to the sun’s short winter routine. A sigh racks his chest; a shower will at least return some colour to his skin.

He turns the water on before he can second guess himself into oblivion. Of all the times to hesitate, it would be now, but he's also aware he can't afford to buckle now. Locked knees lend to a poor performance.

And this is kind of like that, being on stage. He's trying to impress, he’s trying to win hearts—emphasis on multiple. It's thrilling and new and he wants to be _good_ so badly it hurts. He wants this to work out.

That's something they all have in common. They're so greedy to be good and to impress and to grow. They help each other do that, and that's one of the reasons why Chan thinks they'll be so good together. In truth, he doesn't think much will change; their careers will go on and they will continue to be idols and entertainers. But it helps that their roles are so closely intertwined.

At most, he thinks the only things that might change are the more intimate aspects of a relationship like this. It's more complicated with more people, but he's used to numbers by now.

Maybe he's being too optimistic. But optimism is only a problem when expectations are unrealistic, and Chan likes to think he's a pretty realistic person.

The water soothes his skin but his heart is still a rabbit trapped within the cage of his ribs. At this point, it can't be helped. But maybe he can ride the rhythm and work the fast pace to his advantage.

Chan changes in the bathroom and smiles to himself at the thought of Seungkwan and his bathroom incidents. He’s not so nervous to face his hyungs anymore.

 

* * *

 

Seungkwan makes a stop at a convenience store before heading to the hotel. Hansol offered to go with him, just to hold his hand as he gathered his nerves. It was a cute and sweet gesture, but there isn't really anything Hansol can do to help him, not with this.

He passes by the fridge of drinks and stops when he sees rows of the milk tea Chan likes. He opens the door without thinking and grabs a bottle before he realizes what he's doing.

Seungkwan sighs, his fingers wrapped around the cool plastic. The contrast in temperature brings him back to reality—the reality being that Chan is always on his mind, lurking somewhere. Next thing he knows, he's gonna be grabbing the green tea that Soonyoung likes and he'll just be a goddamn parody of himself.

Another patron tries snaking a hand around Seungkwan's arm to grab a bottle of the same milk tea and Seungkwan bows out of the way, feeling embarrassment burn his guts. It's not uncommon for him to be in his head, but god, this is starting to drive him up the wall.

He grabs Soonyoung's green tea and he gets some mineral water for himself. On his way to the cash, he passes a shelf of condoms and lube and almost trips over his own feet.

Damn his hormones. They're what got him into this situation in the first place.

But it’d be funny if he brought them, wouldn't it? And he'd do anything to lighten up the situation.

Seungkwan makes sure his face mask is secure in the nearest reflective surface before grabbing the most basic brand of condoms and lube and heading to the cash.

His bag of goodies feels like a beacon of sin as he rides the elevator to his room. Their room is right next to Jeonghan’s and Seokmin's; he could stop there for a quick pep talk, maybe. But Jeonghan is a nosy bastard and delaying the inevitable showdown will probably just fuck with his nerves.

He could really use a drink, but he doesn't want to say anything too stupid. His impulse purchase of sex accessories is already ridiculous enough.

When he gets to the room, he can hear the water running in the bathroom. This needs to stop being a recurring thing already. He twists his water open just for something to do—just to occupy his mouth to stop himself from screaming his lungs out in the middle of the night.

On second thought, the lube and condoms might not be too ridiculous. He's not sure if he's being optimistic—is hoping for sex after a series of wet dreams optimistic or a new level of desperate?—but knowing Soonyoung, maybe it's not out of reach.

The water turns off and Seungkwan takes a deep breath. This is it. It's showtime.

He changes out of his gross practice clothes and into clean sweats, which still aren't very flattering, but at this point, what they see is what they get. No take backs.

Steam curls at the door when it opens. Chan steps out, hair brushed out of his eyes, dressed in a big shirt and sweats.

Seungkwan states at him and Chan stares back. Silence billows into the room, a cold winter breeze, held at bay only by the heat of their eyes.

“I see you were considerate enough to avoid another dick sighting,” Seungkwan says eventually.

Chan laughs. He really, really laughs, with his belly shaking and head thrown back and everything. Some of his hair falls into his eyes, and Seungkwan’s eyes follow Chan’s hand as it rises to push his hair back over his forehead.

“No, it wouldn’t be fair to ambush you like that,” Chan says in response. A grin lingers on his face and he is so devastatingly handsome.

“Oh, yeah,” Seungkwan says, jogging over to his convenience store purchase, “I, uh… Got you something.”

Seungkwan almost loses his shit as he pushes aside the box of condoms to get to Chan’s bottle of milk tea. He also grabs Soonyoung’s drink so he can toss the bag off the side of his bed and hopefully forget about his impulsive decision for a while—at least until it comes in handy. Which it may or may not. Seungkwan can’t say at this point.

Chan approaches Seungkwan’s bed from the other side and takes the bottle when Seungkwan offers it. He beams up at Seungkwan.

“Peace offering?” he asks as he twists the cap off.

Seungkwan’s mouth twists in a strange smile. “Something like that,” he says.

He watches Chan’s throat work as he takes a few gulps. His adam’s apple bobs a couple times and his jaw cuts the light in a way that makes Seungkwan’s hands curious about the feel of it against his skin.

Seungkwan can’t tell if this is going to be hard—okay, enough with the innuendos, brain—or really, really easy.

A knock at the door catches their attention, but neither of them move. They exchange one last long look, eyes inscrutable in the dim light, especially with such a great distance of three feet between their bodies.

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” Seungkwan says, already somewhat breathless and hating it, “you know how he gets when he has to wait.”

Chan spares him one last grin before heading to the door.

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung shows up at Seungkwan's and Chan's door with a brown paper bag full of fried chicken and fried noodles. A bottle of sake lies nestled in the crook of his elbow as well, just a little something for morale. Maybe a little something for celebration—he certainly hopes so.

From the other side of the door, Soonyoung can just barely hear voices. He thinks he hears the clear _ha ha ha_ that is Chan’s laugh and he feels his stomach flip a little.

Seungkwan is so good at making people laugh, especially Chan. Soonyoung loves him for it, maybe.

He knocks on the door and the rhythmic pounding echoes in his chest until he feels like his whole body is vibrating.

Chan’s the one who answers the door. His skin is pink and his hair is damp. His eyes are bright with mirth when they land on Soonyoung’s face, and the way they crinkle when Soonyoung catches his gaze makes Soonyoung’s heart pound faster in his chest.

“Hi, hyung,” Chan greets him. He stands in the doorway for a second—and this would be where Soonyoung kisses him hello. Instead, Soonyoung glances over Chan’s shoulder and find Seungkwan standing by his bed, his arms partially crossed over his chest, a drink in hand.

Chan turns slightly to follow his line of sight. His breath catches in his throat; Soonyoung can hear it thanks to the quiet and the proximity.

Fuck it. Soonyoung goes in and kisses the corner of Chan’s mouth, but he pulls back before Chan can turn his head around to face him properly. Again, Soonyoung glances over at Seungkwan; he’s holding the bottle in a tighter grip now.

“Come in,” Chan tells him, voice a little strained, his head bowed.

Seungkwan approaches him without a word as the door clicks shut.

“Hi,” Soonyoung greets him. He lifts the food in his arms. “I brought food!”

Seungkwan examines the offering. He cocks a brow. “And alcohol?” he asks.

Soonyoung shrugs and starts walking towards the table on the other side of the room. “Why not?” he replies.

His dongsaengs follow him, their feet padding quietly across the carpet. Just by listening, Soonyoung can tell who is who, can identify whose stride is whose. His heart feels fit to burst; he fucking loves them so much.

They all settle around the table and distribute food.

“God, this is so greasy,” Seungkwan comments, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“Bet it’s gonna be amazing, then,” Chan says. He breaks apart a pair of chopsticks before digging in.

Just as Soonyoung lifts his styrofoam plate to dig in, he feels fingers against the back of his hand. When he looks up, he sees Seungkwan holding out the bottle he was holding earlier.

“This is for you,” Seungkwan says quietly.

Soonyoung puts down his food and takes the bottle. It’s the same green tea Chan gave him at Osaka Castle.

Within seconds, a wide grin overtakes Soonyoung’s face.

“Thank you,” he says, twisting the cap off.

Their chewing fills up the room; a long day of practice always leaves them famished. But they exchange glances in the meantime, eyes bouncing off the soft quiet, curiosity and uncertainty propelling them forward through their meal.

“This is awkward as fuck,” Seungkwan says after a while.

Chan snorts. He reaches out and wipes off a drop of sauce from the corner of Seungkwan’s mouth; Soonyoung feels heat lick at his chest at the familiar scene.

“You didn’t have to say it out loud,” Chan deadpans, settling back into his seat with ease. He pops his thumb into his mouth to suck off the bit of sauce he cleaned up.

Seungkwan’s cheeks are red and splotchy in the harsh artificial lamp light.

Blinking rapidly, Seungkwan splutters, “You’re fucking shameless, Lee Chan.”

Chan grins with all his teeth.

“How else do you think I got here?” Chan fires back.

Seungkwan takes a deep breath. He eyes the bottle of sake on the table before straightening his back a bit.

“So,” he starts, “are you guys fucking or what?”

This time, Chan splutters. Soonyoung can’t help the sheepish smile that curves his lips.

“Kinda?” Soonyoung answers.

“And you said _I’m_ shameless,” Chan mutters.

Soonyoung pats Chan’s back with the heel of his palm, earning him an unimpressed look.

“What?” he asks. “I don’t want you to choke on anything yet.”

“Yet,” both Seungkwan and Chan repeat at the same time. They exchange glances and a helpless smile pulls at Seungkwan’s face.

“So you guys are ‘kinda’ fucking,” Seungkwan states. He tilts his head. “But that’s it?”

“Why?” Soonyoung asks. “You having dreams about it?”

The way Seungkwan tenses up so quickly almost has Soonyoung on the floor laughing. Seungkwan hops to his feet, steam practically blowing out his ears, but he doesn’t approach Soonyoung yet, despite the way his clenched fist seems to call Soonyoung’s name.

“You’re such an asshole,” Seungkwan hisses. But he relaxes his hand and sits down again. He crosses one leg over the other and looks out the window.

“So that’s a yes,” Chan says, a little breathless. “Wow. Wait.” He leans forward and a bit out of his seat. “So did I show up too?”

Seungkwan’s ears are so, so red.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan admits eventually. “You—I mean, nothing happened. In my dream, I mean. But something was definitely _gonna._ My brain is so fucking determined to try and fill blanks I couldn’t care to think about while conscious, I guess.”

“Your brain’s an oracle,” Soonyoung declares. “Giving you a prophecy for the future of your sex life.”

At first, Soonyoung is met with stunned silence.

Seungkwan speaks up first.

“You’re saying you want to fuck us both, then?” he asks. His voice is squeaky—no point trying to hide it now—and his eyes bore into Soonyoung’s skull.

Soonyoung sighs, putting up his hands. “It’s not _just_ about fucking, Seungkwan,” he replies.

Seungkwan lowers his gaze. He twists his hands for a little bit; his fidgeting would be cute if it didn’t feel like Soonyoung was waiting for a death sentence at the same time.

“Isn’t it, though?” Seungkwan says after a while. He looks up and out the window again. “I mean—obviously, I love you guys regardless of what my body has to say about your dicks. And—” He pauses to take a deep breath. “It’s not like—we can date.”

Chan frowns. “Why not?” he asks.

Seungkwan laughs a mirthless laugh. “We’re idols, Chan,” he says gently. “We don’t have time to date. We can’t—there’s too much to worry about with _dating._ And there’s three of us—how would that work out?”

“So—so we won’t call it dating,” Chan replies. He comes forward a little farther out his seat, a small, hesitant movement that still catches Soonyoung’s and Seungkwan’s eyes. “You know, it—we don’t need to put labels. We don’t need to do that yet. What we can do now is at least—” He gestures with his hands. “Be honest about what we want out of this. Especially if—if dating is out of the question.”

Soonyoung takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He reaches for Chan’s hand with ease and Chan responds by lacing their fingers together. When he goes for Seungkwan, he is met with some hesitation—but Seungkwan smiles up at him, genuine fondness in his eyes, though there is a wry quality to his expression.

“What is this, a prayer circle?” Seungkwan asks as he squeezes Soonyoung’s hand.

Chan rolls his eyes as he goes for Seungkwan’s other hand.

“Call it an honesty circle,” Soonyoung replies. “And let’s take this seriously, yeah?”

His words soften Seungkwan’s lips and eyes.

“I am taking this seriously,” Seungkwan murmurs. “It’s just—hard to believe, you know. That we’re even talking about this. It was literally just a fantasy of mine, and I totally could have left it that way, as some sort of fleeting dream, but you guys are nothing if determined, I guess.”

“Well, I’m glad, hyung,” Chan says. “I’m glad that you told me about everything. I wouldn’t have acted without that, and maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I might have acted sooner or later,” Soonyoung says quietly, “because the truth of the matter is that I want you guys in my life like—this.” His eyes fall to the centre of their circle, which happens to the a coffee table covered in greasy scraps. “I want to spend late nights with you guys eating and talking and shit.”

“We do that all the time,” Seungkwan says.

“So then it is about the sex,” Soonyoung sighs.

Both Chan and Seungkwan laugh at that.

“So if it’s about the sex,” Seungkwan says, looking between Chan and Soonyoung, “and you guys are ‘kinda’ fucking, we can agree that we’re gonna keep sex exclusive between the three of us?”

“Of course,” Chan says at the same time as Soonyoung says, “That’s right.”

“I’d say we did fuck,” Chan pipes up. “We both reached a climax, so I say that counts.”

Soonyoung grimaces. “Why do you have to put it like that,” he complains.

Chan rolls his eyes. “We both fucking jizzed in our pants. Does that sound better?”

Seungkwan laughs through his nose. “What the fuck did you guys do, dry hump ‘til you made a damn mess?”

“It was still a good time,” Soonyoung says hotly. His ears are changing colour. “I’ll count myself lucky since I wasn’t expecting it to get that far in the first place.”

It takes Seungkwan completely off guard when Soonyoung pulls on his arm, bringing them nose to nose—Seungkwan’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates and his breath fizzes to nothing.

“We can start right here, right now, if you’re planning on raising the bar, Seungkwannie,” Soonyoung challenges him.

For a while, all Seungkwan can do is stare and stare. With Seungkwan out of reach, Chan leans his chin on Soonyoung’s shoulder and looks up at Seungkwan through his lashes.

At first, Seungkwan looks overwhelmed. His lips tremble as his breathing speeds up and his eyes are still so big. But then, something makes him crack and he starts grinning, laughter in the corners of his mouth.

“God, I’m so glad you said that,” Seungkwan says, breathless.

He stands. He reaches for Chan’s hand again before leading both Soonyoung and Chan over to his bed. They exchange glances as Seungkwan bends over and retrieves a bag from the floor.

When he empties its contents onto the bed, Soonyoung is speechless.

“What the fuck, hyung,” Chan says. It doesn’t take long for him to break into an incredulous laugh.

The grin on Seungkwan’s face is at once beaming with pride and simmering with embarrassment.

“I dunno—better safe than sorry?” he says, unsure. He looks between Chan and Soonyoung before asking, “Did I get a good brand? Do you know?”

Still laughing, Chan leans his weight onto the bed. “Dude, you’re looking at the least experienced person in the room,” he replies.

Seungkwan laughs. “Hey, you still fucked that guy. I’ve only fucked my own hand.”

With slow hands, Soonyoung picks up the lube and condoms. He turns them over, scanning the text on the packaging.

“Dude, this is all in Japanese,” he whines. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

Seungkwan sighs, though his amusement is clear in his breath. He sits on his bed and picks up the lube. “Well, this should be pretty straightforward,” he comments. Then, he goes for the condoms. “These, too. Unless you guys are hiding monster dicks from me and we need to go up a size.”

Soonyoung looks at Chan. Then, he looks at Seungkwan.

“Well, I mean—” Soonyoung starts, but he has to stop to let a couple laughs filter through his teeth. “God, fuck. I don’t want to say anything about anything yet, dude. Plus, if we’re all as inexperienced as I think, maybe the condoms will be a bit much.”

Chan stares at the bedspread for a few moments. His ears slowly turn red in the meantime.

“You mean—” he begins, slowly lifting his head, “you guys haven’t fingered your own ass before?”

Although it’s worded as a joke, Chan’s statement receives only quiet in response.

“You are the worst at killing the mood,” Seungkwan sighs. There’s a crooked smile hanging on his lips. “Or should I say the best?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Soonyoung counters. “It’s totally hot that he’s willing to admit that out loud.”

Seungkwan flushes. “Then I’m sure you’d be thrilled to know he’s not the only one,” he retorts.

“I am!” Soonyoung exclaims. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly yelling. “So we’ve all played with our assholes! That’s good, considering I’m sure dicks will end up in there at some point!”

As soon as Soonyoung stops talking, he realizes how fucking quiet it is. It is past midnight, after all. God, he hopes the neighbours aren’t listening. He hopes they’re all sleeping like normal people; but knowing that their neighbours are their fellow members, he knows they’re likely still awake.

Fuck him.

Chan and Seungkwan burst into laughter. At some point, Seungkwan grabs Chan and hauls him onto the bed, and Chan follows his lead and brings Soonyoung down with him.

“Ow, fuck,” Soonyoung grumbles. He pulls out the box of condoms from where it stabbed him in the ribs.

Chan takes it from him and examines it. “So maybe we won’t need this tonight,” he says, “but definitely later after some warming up.”

“Definitely?” Seungkwan repeats, smirking.

Chan looks up at him. He puts the box on the nightstand and begins to crawl over, climbing between Seungkwan’s legs and pinning him to the pillows.

“Definitely,” Chan murmurs. “If you want, we can put one on you and you can do whatever you want to me. I can’t talk for Soonyoung-hyung, but—”

“I’m cool with this plan,” Soonyoung replies.

He grabs the lube and sets it on the nightstand, next to the condoms. Then, he crawls over to Seungkwan’s other side. Chan sits up a bit to give him space and Soonyoung kisses him on the cheek as he passes.

With gentle fingers, Soonyoung brushes some of Seungkwan’s hair out of his eyes. One of Seungkwan’s hands rises to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells Seungkwan, “and I’m glad—that this is what you decided you wanted.”

“My body decided that one for me,” Seungkwan replies wryly. “But—I’m glad too.”

Soonyoung resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he cups Seungkwan’s cheek and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Seungkwan makes a disbelieving sound. “Do you really have to ask after I showed you the fucking lube and condoms I bought? For our future sex endeavours? Like kissing is the—”

Soonyoung pats Seungkwan’s cheek, interrupting him.

“Can you just answer the question?” Soonyoung presses.

With a long-suffering sigh, Seungkwan says, “Yes, hyung. You can kiss me.”

Soonyoung holds Seungkwan’s gaze for a while longer before he leans in slowly. He can feel the air move as Seungkwan’s eyelids flutter closed.

Kissing Seungkwan for the first time is sweet, maybe moreso than kissing Chan the first time. Seungkwan’s lips are soft thanks to his dedication to lip balm in these cold, dry winter months. They’re also not as hesitant as Soonyoung predicted, and Seungkwan leans his head to increase pressure.

When Soonyoung pulls back, he watches as Seungkwan’s eyes slide over to look at Chan.

“See, that’s a bit weird,” Seungkwan murmurs, but there’s a smile on his face. “You’re just—you can only watch. Do you feel left out?”

Chan laughs, incredulousness making his breath light.

“Maybe a little,” Chan replies. “But you two look fucking good together, so is it really the worst thing? Not at all.”

With a laugh of his own, Seungkwan reaches out for Chan with both arms. He happily leans forward to exchange a couple kisses with Seungkwan himself.

The ease with which Chan kisses Seungkwan is telling. Soonyoung hums to himself as he lowers himself onto his arm next to Seungkwan.

“You guys have done this before,” Soonyoung comments.

Chan nods without pulling away. He’s got a hand in Seungkwan’s hair and the other propping himself up. A smile starts to bloom in his cheeks as Seungkwan struggles to turn his head to answer Soonyoung.

“Yes,” Seungkwan manages, though his words are slightly muffled.

Rolling his eyes, Chan pulls away. He tugs on Seungkwan’s hair a little bit.

“Do you really have to stop just to answer him?” he asks, looking only at Seungkwan. “You really can’t resist, can you.”

Seungkwan narrows his eyes at Chan. “What are you trying to say?” he replies.

“Don’t bicker, don’t fight,” Soonyoung says gently, gathering Seungkwan and Chan into his arms best as he can.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Chan complains. He complies with Soonyoung’s grabby hand and cuddles as close as he can anyway.

“It’s hot when he gets angry,” Seungkwan comments, and the casual tone with which he says it makes Soonyoung lift an eyebrow.

“Really?” Soonyoung asks. “You like that?”

Seungkwan grins as he turns to look at Soonyoung. “Why else do I keep you around?” he responds.

As Soonyoung tries to figure out what to say to that, Chan laughs.

“Kinky,” Chan says. He tightens his grip in Seungkwan’s hair and forces Seungkwan to look in his direction. “You like it rough, then?”

Pink rises to Seungkwan’s cheeks. Instead of saying anything, he nods, his eyes hesitantly staying on Chan’s face with nowhere else to look besides Soonyoung.

Chan pulls a little more and Seungkwan’s eyes fall shut. As Seungkwan’s head tilts back, Soonyoung takes that opportunity to dip his head low and press his mouth against the column of Seungkwan’s throat.

That finally seems to take away Seungkwan’s ability to speak. Soonyoung leaves a trail of kisses down to Seungkwan’s collarbones before retracing his path with his tongue. Seungkwan whines and reaches for both Soonyoung and Chan, digging his fingers into their shirts.

Soonyoung looks over at Chan. Chan looks back and grins. This is gonna be fun.

Seungkwan’s eyes constantly move back and forth between Soonyoung and Chan as they lavish him with attention. Chan takes his turn at the other side of Seungkwan’s neck as Soonyoung shifts onto his knees to free up his hands. He makes light lines down Seungkwan’s sides with his nails, drawing a shudder and a groan from Seungkwan.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan pants out. “Fuck, Chan—”

At the sound of his name, Chan lifts his head. He catches Seungkwan’s gaze before sealing his mouth against Seungkwan’s, kissing him with fervor. Soonyoung catches a glimpse of tongue and grins to himself.

Soonyoung digs his nails into Seungkwan’s hips and then he’s forced to keep them down as Seungkwan’s body jerks. He continues to smile to himself; it’s endearing and erotic all at once to watch Seungkwan lose control at his fingertips.

When he grazes his fingers over both Seungkwan’s nipples, Seungkwan’s hips fly up again. The sharp cry that tries to claw its way out of his throat is dulled by Chan's lips, but Soonyoung feels its impact anyway, raw and open and desperate for Seungkwan to make that sound again.

Soonyoung and Chan make the perfect team: they complement each other, handling places the other can't reach, stimulating Seungkwan in every way they can imagine. They take turns pinning him down when he starts to thrash, completely out of control of his limbs, and together they relish this vulnerable side Seungkwan reveals to them and them only.

When Soonyoung finally peels back Seungkwan's sweats, his cock springs up and smacks wetly against his stomach. Immediately, Soonyoung can feel his mouth water.

Soonyoung glances up at Chan. It takes him a moment to tear his eyes away from Seungkwan's dick, but when their eyes meet, there's a moment of complete understanding between them.

They crawl down the bed on their knees and elbows. Shaking, Seungkwan props himself up to watch their descent. However, he has no words; his breath is ragged as it drags out of his throat.

Before Soonyoung settles onto his forearms, he sweeps his eyes over Seungkwan's body. Sweat covers his entire flushed body and his shirt is rucked up his chest; they didn’t even bother taking it off. His hair is a mess and sticks to his face in clumps, framing his eyes that screw shut and fly open in response to Chan and Soonyoung’s advances.

Seungkwan reacts so beautifully to each and every one of their moves and it’s so hot that Soonyoung is hard without having been touched once.

Chan bumps Soonyoung’s shoulder as he settles down on his stomach. He pulls down Seungkwan’s pants to the middle of his thighs before grabbing the base of Seungkwan’s cock. Immediately, Seungkwan whines.

Leaning forward, Chan makes the first move. For a beginner, he seems eager: his mouth falls open without hesitation and he licks his way up to the head of Seungkwan’s cock.

There’s no way Soonyoung can lose to Chan, not here. He takes the other side, lavishing his tongue on whatever part of Seungkwan he can reach.

They cross paths multiple times, and every time Soonyoung meets Chan’s eye his breath catches in his chest. Eventually, he can’t take anymore—he turns his face towards Chan and captures his lips in a burning kiss.

Chan whimpers underneath him, bending to his will, opening his mouth for Soonyoung as well. He’s eager, always so eager, and Soonyoung loves it so much. It’s easy to take what he wants from Chan, and the sweetest part of it is that Chan wants to give it to him.

But they don’t stay sidetracked for too long. They take turns taking in Seungkwan’s erection, and when there aren’t lips fastened around it, they’re both licking and stroking him.

“Oh my god,” Seungkwan cries. “Holy shit—fuck—please—I’m gonna—”

For a split second, Soonyoung isn’t sure how to handle Seungkwan’s incoming orgasm. He glances over at Chan and sees him continuing to lick away as Seungkwan’s hips tremble. Soonyoung picks up where he left off and it doesn’t take long for Seungkwan to come between their waiting mouths. Streaks of white fall onto the bedspread and all over their faces, some of it landing on their hanging tongues.

“Holy fucking hell,” Seungkwan rasps out. He’s barely keeping himself up on his arms, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Soonyoung’s and Chan’s faces. “You guys look—”

Soonyoung turns to look at Chan. Some of it landed on his collarbone, but most of what is on his skin covers his cheeks and chin. Soonyoung imagines he looks about the same.

Both Seungkwan and Soonyoung freeze when Chan leans forward. He licks some come from the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth before going in for a kiss. Soonyoung lies back and lets Chan take the lead for a bit, the taste of Seungkwan strong on both their tongues.

Chan is the first to sit up. “Okay,” he says, “that was super hot, but now it’s starting to get gross.”

“Here,” Seungkwan says immediately, reaching forward with a corner of a bedsheet. He gently wipes at Chan’s face; the concentration deep in the lines of his brow contrasts the aroused flush still lingering in his cheeks.

Chan stays obediently still. Soonyoung does the same, though he flashes a grin when he makes eye contact with Seungkwan. At first, Seungkwan glances down, embarrassed, but then he gets engrossed in his task.

Once he puts the sheet down, Seungkwan looks up at Chan and Soonyoung and bites his lip.

“Wh-What about you guys?” he asks, an uncharacteristic waver in his voice.

Soonyoung looks at Chan, and then he looks over at Seungkwan. Chan looks at Soonyoung before also looking over at Seungkwan.

“I—I have an idea,” he states. He sits up on his knees and takes Soonyoung’s hand. He pulls Soonyoung upright as well, and then he reaches for Soonyoung’s pants.

It’s immensely quiet in the absence of Seungkwan’s various sounds, so much so that Soonyoung can hear Chan’s breath catch in his chest. Sweat drips down Soonyoung’s neck under the intensity of Chan’s stare.

Chan scoots forward until their knees are touching. He handles Soonyoung’s erection slowly, carefully, and Soonyoung leans into his touch without hesitation.

Next, Chan yanks down his pants and frees his cock, shivering upon exposure. With one hand, he pulls Soonyoung closer, and with his other hand, he brings their cocks together as soon as they’re in reach.

“Oh,” both Seungkwan and Soonyoung say at the same time.

Soonyoung already finds himself panting. He steadies his weight on the bed and shifts forward, rubbing his erection against Chan’s in the circle of his fist. The friction is electric; Soonyoung moans and Chan echoes him.

Before Soonyoung can really get into it and test the limits of the connection, Chan looks over at Seungkwan.

“Um, hyung,” he starts, but Seungkwan bounds forward before he can finish his thought.

He’s got the bottle of lube in hand. It opens with a _pop,_ and Seungkwan grins when Soonyoung and Chan look at him immediately.

“This should be of use,” he says lowly. He pours some onto one hand and then he pours a pretty generous amount over both erections.

Chan laughs shakily when Seungkwan tosses the bottle aside. Seungkwan takes a deep breath before wrapping both hands around them in a snug grip.

The lube makes it easy for Soonyoung to thrust forward. Seungkwan’s hands are steady around them as they start to move wildly, hips jerking, seeking sweet release with abandon.

The entire time, Soonyoung can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on them. His stare adds another element of heat to the equation, together with his unfaltering grip.

It’s obvious when Chan gets close: he can hardly stay upright, leaning on Soonyoung’s shoulder. He buries his face in Soonyoung’s shoulder as he chases his climax, and Soonyoung is content to let him take over until he reaches his peak. With a muffled cry, Chan goes still and comes into Seungkwan’s hands. In the thick of it, he clamps his teeth over Soonyoung’s shoulder, wrenching Soonyoung right to the edge.

“Hyung,” Seungkwan whispers, and it nearly startles Soonyoung, how close his voice is. “Come on, hyung—come for us. I wanna see you, too.”

Soonyoung lets out a strangled noise as he comes. Arms circle his waist and shoulders; lips dance over his face and neck. From all sides, he is showered in affection as he gasps for breath, shaking so hard he can feel it in his bones.

Seungkwan doesn’t say anything as he wipes his hands on the same sheet from earlier. He balls it up and throws it over the side of the bed. Meanwhile, Chan settles heavily onto his heels, his pants still hanging over his thighs.

Clicking his tongue, Seungkwan shuffles to Chan’s side. He peppers his face with kisses as he pulls Chan up onto the pillows. They clean each other up before settling side by side on the twin bed with Chan as the filling of their cuddle sandwich.

Seungkwan buries his face in Chan’s neck and hooks his fingers into Soonyoung’s shirt. One of his legs comes up over Chan’s hip and nearly gets Soonyoung in the thigh.

“Hey,” Soonyoung complains without much force.

“Hey, you,” Seungkwan mutters in reply.

Chan chuckles and pulls Seungkwan flush against his side.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, I’m your hyung!”

“I just touched your dick, Soonyoung. You can let the formalities slide.”

Chan laughs again. With the way it vibrates throughout Soonyoung’s chest, he can’t bear to stay mad. Instead, he buries his smile in Chan’s shoulder and curls up against his side.

“Thank god I showered,” Chan murmurs.

Both Seungkwan and Soonyoung laugh as they settle against each other, filling in the cracks between their bodies, adjusting until they mould to each other perfectly.

Soonyoung has never felt warmer in his life, and he swears it’s not just the body heat in the small space. Every inch of his body is warm with affection, and as he hears Chan and Seungkwan slowly drift into dream land, he is certain they feel the same way.

 

* * *

 

Their final concert ends the tour with a bang and they return home without a hitch.

The thing is that coming home means bringing their overseas arrangement back to their permanent arrangement and trying to fit it in with everything.

Chan opens the door to his room. Everything is the same as he left it, and while that is a relief, disappointment tinges his fingertips as he sets his belongings down. Unpacking becomes a trial in minutes as memories flood his brain every time he encounters little things Soonyoung and Seungkwan left behind, be it a scent or a piece of clothing.

An hour has passed by the time he ends up sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of his room, surrounded in his own mess.

 

[Seungkwan]: chan-ah

[Seungkwan]: channie

[Seungkwan]: lee chan

 

A huge grin splits Chan’s face as his phone lights up.

 

[Seungkwan]: my dearest channie

[Seungkwan]: let’s get dinner

[Seungkwan]: it’s my treat. your good for nothing hyung scammed me into paying, so don’t worry about anything

[Seungkwan]: unless the flight gave you an upset stomach. if that’s the case, maybe we can reschedule for tomorrow?

[Seungkwan]: chan

[Seungkwan]: chaaaaan answer me

[Chan]: what’s on the menu?

[Seungkwan]: this dick

[Seungkwan]: sorry that was soonyoung

[Seungkwan]: he’s not happy that i ghsgkfhfjhfk

[Seungkwan]: OK WE NEED TO MAKE A GROUP CHAT HE IS SO LSHJKGHDJH

 

Chan ends up on his back, laughing so loudly it echoes in the room.

“Channie!” he hears Soonyoung call.

Chan props himself up on his elbows and finds Soonyoung standing in the doorway. As soon as their eyes meet, Soonyoung dashes into the room and slides across the floor on his knees, almost ending in a full-body collision.

Within seconds, Chan hears footsteps crash down the hallway. As Soonyoung busies himself with cuddling Chan into the ground, the footsteps come to a skidding halt at his door.

“Oh,” comes Seungkwan’s voice, light with relief and breathlessness. “Okay. I thought I was gonna walk in on something else.”

Chan starts to sit up, but Soonyoung pins him down. He settles for looking up at Seungkwan with a smile.

“Dude, he just got here,” Chan replies. “Weren’t you two just together? There was no time to—”

“I wouldn’t underestimate that guy,” Seungkwan says, interrupting him.

“I don’t like how that sounds,” Soonyoung pipes up. However, he does not extract his face from Chan’s chest.

Chan pats his back. “Don’t worry,” he says, “if he can say that with that much confidence, he’s probably thinking about your dick just as much.”

“What!” Seungkwan cries from the doorway. “How does that make any sense?”

Seungkwan crosses the room in a couple steps and lowers himself onto the floor. He passes his hands over Chan’s belonging and stops to pick something up.

“Oh, this is my shirt,” he mutters to himself. “How did this end up here?”

Chan shrugs. “I can wash it with my laundry if you want.”

“Who cares about laundry,” Soonyoung sighs. “Let’s go get dinner already. I just came to get you.”

“Oh. Yeah, alright,” Chan says. Then, he turns to Seungkwan. “So what had you running down to get us?”

Colour fills Seungkwan’s cheeks. “W-Well,” he starts, “if you guys got—suddenly occupied—”

“Busy,” Soonyoung corrects him.

“Shut up. If you guys started now, it might take a while, and then the place might close,” Seungkwan explains.

“But he—” Chan says.

“Just trust me,” Seungkwan says hotly. “You’d know if you’d been there.”

Chan has so many questions. However, he keeps them to himself as Soonyoung climbs to his feet. He takes Soonyoung’s hand when it’s offered to him, and they work together to help Seungkwan up.

As they head down the hall and out the dorm, Seungkwan tries his best to explain himself. It’s hard to string together his lines of logic as Soonyoung interrupts him, but Chan is content to listen anyway. He’s content to walk side by side with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, and he’s more than happy to accompany them to a meal.

As he suffers through both Soonyoung and Seungkwan trying to hand feed him, he realizes that although everything has changed, things have hardly changed at all. They will continue to terrorize each other, but maybe now in new ways, perhaps involving embarrassing sex things; but as long as they’re together, Chan is certain things will always be fun.


End file.
